Standing at the Edge of You and Me
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Regrets. We all have them. Daryl Dixon's biggest regret is letting go of the only love he's ever known. One stormy summer night, opportunity comes knocking in the form of the one that got away.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

Standing at the Edge of You and Me

Chapter 1

In many ways, it was your typical girl meets boy story. In many ways it wasn't. Any way you sliced it, Carol Morgan was meant to meet Daryl Dixon. In many ways, they were destined to meet before they were even born.

Carol's father, David, was a business man and a wealthy one. He was a good man, a good husband, but as soon as he put that suit and tie on, he was a shark, and he'd made a killing, which was why he'd become the head of the pharmaceutical company that had forced him to move himself and his new bride from Los Angeles to Atlanta.

By the time Carol came along, her parents were pushing forty. By the time she was in junior high, they were in their fifties, and by the time she met Daryl Dixon, they were suspicious of anybody that came snooping around their girl, because the only thing they could assume was he was after the money.

Daryl Dixon came from nothing. Well, not nothing, because, everybody has a past. But he was born to an abusive drunk father and a meth addict mother. By the time he was ten, he and his older brother, Merle, were placed in foster care for the abuse they endured at the hands of their tyrant father. Their mother was in prison for making and selling meth, and their father was long gone, probably shacked up with some bleach blond pair of tits.

Daryl was fifteen when he got shoved hard against his locker for the last time by that prick Phillip Blake, the banker's son who had his own fucking yacht but wasn't even old enough to drive a goddamned car. It had been the third time Blake had shoved him, calling him dirt and saying he couldn't even afford to breathe the same air. It had been a seriously fucked up week at his new foster home, and he hadn't seen his older brother in a month. Merle was old enough to be out on his own, and he knew his brother was into some bad shit, but there was no telling what it was, and Merle wouldn't come around.

Well, when Phillip Blake had laid into him, Daryl had turned right back around and punched him square in the nose. And then in the jaw. And then he'd pushed him to the ground and started punching him mercilessly. And, of course, Mrs. Crenshaw, the girls' P.E. teacher had seen and promptly separated the boys, sending Phillip to the nurse for cleaning up and Daryl to the principal's office for the beating.

That was the day that Carol Morgan was sitting outside of the principal's office while her parents were inside. She was a transfer student, coming from a school on the East side of Atlanta, a school her parents hadn't deemed worthy enough of educating their daughter.

When Daryl came around the corner, all tense with anger and frustration, his shaggy hair messed and down in his eyes, Carol felt her heart skip a beat. She bit her lip and scooted over on the bench, and he looked at her like she was crazy.

"You can sit."

"Know that," he muttered, plopping down on the bench next to her. "Who are you?"

"I'm Carol."

"Never seen you before. New, right?"

"Yeah," she said with an anxious nod. "My parents are just inside."

"Well, make sure you thank your parents for putting you in this piece of shit school. Welcome to hell, Carol." Carol watched as his shoulders shook as he fought for breath.

"You get in a fight or something?" she asked, reaching over to brush her fingertips against his bruised cheek. He flinched away from the touch and scooted away on the bench. It was at that moment that the principal's door opened, and her parents came filing out.

"Everything's set, Carol Ann," her mother, Vera said with a warm smile, giving her daughter a warm hug, while Daryl promptly gawked at the scene as if he was watching a foreign film and couldn't understand the words. "They want you in the guidance office to give you your class schedule. I have to get your father to the airport. Will you be alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Carol assured her with a nervous smile. She glanced in Daryl's direction, and Vera looked over at the rough-looking boy with a torn shirt and a bruised cheek, and she visibly tensed before turning back to her daughter.

"Make sure you sit with some nice girls at lunch. You should make friends here. It's important."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I promise," Carol said, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, as her mother gave her another kiss, this time to the forehead.

"Vera, we'll be late," David announced, checking his watch. "You'll be alright to get on the bus after school?"

"I'm fifteen," Carol pointed out. "I'll be fine. If not, I'm sure I can find some burly quarterback to walk me home."

"Not funny, Carol Ann," Vera scolded, before she broke out in a smile and shook her head. "I'll see you this evening, sweetheart." Carol gave her parents a half-hearted wave before she sat back down on the bench. Daryl was staring at her, and when he realized she'd caught him staring, he looked away. "Parents."

"Yeah," he snorted, despite the fact he had no idea what it was like to have parents who gave a shit. He'd had six sets of foster parents over the last five years, and it was enough to make him doubt the entire foster system. He was a fuck-up, and he knew it, but the fosters were worse. Some of them had too many kids to keep track of, and he'd been lucky if he even had a bed to sleep in at the end of the night.

Now, he was being fostered by the Grimes', and they were pretty decent, and he got along ok with their boy, Rick, but he knew it wasn't permanent. Nothing ever was.

The principal's door opened, and Mr. Bixler came walking out, and as soon as he saw Daryl, his eyes rolled up, and he put his hand to his chest, feigning chest pain.

"Why, Mr. Dixon! What an absolute shock to see you sitting here this morning, as you do almost every morning." Daryl ducked his head, scowling, and without even looking at Carol, he got up and made his way past Bixler and into the office. Before Mr. Bixler came walking in, Daryl heard him whisper to Carol Ann Morgan. "Miss, it would serve you best to not hang around with the likes of Dixon. You seem like a good girl. Ought to stay that way."

For the next three years, Carol and Daryl were inseparable. He'd pushed her away at first, not even knowing what it was to have a friend. But slowly, he'd let her into his life, and despite her parents' warnings that she was going to end up in trouble, Carol couldn't stay away. Daryl had truly been the best friend she'd ever had. And slowly, over the course of those three years, they'd fallen in love.

He was her first. That balmy Summer night in the back of his pickup, they were seventeen, and they were scared shitless, but they'd held each other, and they'd soothed each other through pain and awkward fumbling, and in the end, it had been as perfect as it could be, and Carol was certain, as he held her close and stroked her hair when it was over, that they would spend the rest of their lives together.

...

"Piece of shit," Daryl muttered, as the TV went on the blink again. He slammed his hand on the top of the set, adjusted the rabbit ears, and finally said to hell with it and turned it off. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, and he peeked out the window to see flashes of lightning masked by clouds. It was miles away yet, but it was coming, and he suddenly had feeling of nostalgia, remembering sleepless nights sitting in the back of his truck, lying there, looking up at the menacing clouds with her hand in his as the rain began to pour over them. He remembered laughing and her laughing with him, the sound cutting through his soul, warming him like nothing else. He remembered the way she'd curl up against him, the way their hair would plaster to their faces, and her hand would tuck inside of his shirt for warmth. He remembered the way her hair smelled like lavender, and her mouth tasted like cinnamon.

He pushed his way out onto the screened in back porch and had a seat, popping open a beer as he looked out over the hills, watching as the storm rolled in. The fireflies were all but gone, going back to wherever the hell it was they went when the rain came.

He heard a car door slam, and he checked his watch. It was late. Probably Rick coming over for a couple of beers, he figured. He made his way through the house and to the front door, expecting Rick's usual three rapid-fire knocks. But nothing came. He peeked out the window in time to see a yellow taxi cab turning off at the end of the street, and then he heard the screen door squeal on its hinges. Still, no knock. He waited. And then, there it was. Her shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits knock. He knew that knock anywhere.

He gritted his teeth, thinking hard and fast for a moment, debating on whether or not to leave her out there in the impending storm, thinking he'd be better off if he just ignored her, just let her wonder. How'd she know he'd still be living here? Of course she knew. Where else would be he? Same place he got after high school. Same job he had after high school, because, of course he didn't go to college. He was Daryl Dixon. He was nothing, and he'd known that from birth. He'd never go anywhere. He'd known that from birth, too. So why the hell should he open that goddamned door and give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd made the better choice? She'd made the _right_ choice, because anything was better than being stuck with someone like him.

He bit back the anger he felt. It wasn't anger at her. It was anger at himself. It was him. He only had himself to blame. He hadn't _given_ her a choice, and he knew it. He'd pushed her away, pushed her at Mr. Perfect when graduation came, and college applications came, and Carol had been accepted at a number of very prestigious universities, and Daryl had earned himself a job at Micky's Garage as a mechanic making decent money, but not Ivy League money. Not money like Mr. Perfect.

It had been him. He'd broken her heart, and she'd believed him when he'd told her he couldn't be with her anymore. She'd believed him when he'd told her that all he wanted was a little peace and fucking quiet, and he couldn't think with her around. He'd broken her in a way that no man ever could, and he hated himself for it.

"Daryl, I know you're there. Please, open the door." Oh, it was her, alright. Her voice was a little different. Five years would change a person. He imagined her standing there in her nice clothes with a big rock on her finger. He imagined her curly, auburn hair blowing in the summer winds. He imagined her standing in front of him, looking at him with a look of relief that told him that marrying Mr. Perfect was the best thing she'd ever done.

Thunder shook the house this time, and a bolt of lightning illuminated the house as the power went out. He could hear the winding down whirr of the refrigerator as an empty silence filled the house.

"Daryl, _please!"_ she urged from outside. "Please, open the door." He could hear her voice hitch, and he couldn't resist her. He never could resist her. Despite everything he'd said to her, everything he'd beaten himself up for, she was still the best friend he'd ever have. Even if he'd pushed her away, he couldn't turn her away. Not this time.

He unlocked the door and opened it wide, and for a moment, he thought it wasn't even her at all. For a moment, she was a stranger with short hair, a shadow of the girl he fell in love with, a little slip of a thing with bruises on her arms and a cut on her lip, and a baby sleeping soundly against her chest. But those eyes. Those unmistakable, fall into the ocean and drown in happiness eyes were hers and hers alone.

She trembled. Or was she simply bouncing the baby? He couldn't tell. But she looked like she was about to fall over, and he noticed the way her knees shook as she stood there in a slip of a sundress. Shivering.

He didn't say a word. Couldn't. He stared at her, much like he had the day they'd first met outside of Mr. Bixler's office. Only, now, she was the one fighting for breath. She was the one who looked broken. She was the one that needed that soft touch, that gentle sweep of fingertips against her cheek.

"I made a mistake," she choked out, as tears slipped from her eyes. "I didn't know where else to go." And then she was sobbing, and he was reaching for the baby, and she was falling against him, crumpling against him, inside of herself, and he pulled her close, and they sat there on the threshold of the door, and the baby cried, and she cried, and he thanked God for bringing this angel back into his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Daryl had never held a baby in his life. The way its head lolled back scared the hell out of him, and he held it close to his chest, supporting its neck like he'd seen done before. Carol was pulling away now, leaning back against the door, wiping at her face. The dark circles under her eyes gave away her exhaustion, and the strained cries of the infant in his arms made him realize they'd probably been traveling for a while.

Daryl cradled the baby awkwardly in his arms, and he looked at Carol, as if asking her what the hell he was supposed to do.

"Here," she murmured, holding her arms out. Daryl gently passed the kid back to her, and he stood up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pant legs. He reached down, helping her stand, and she groaned softly, wincing in pain. He grabbed the bag she'd had slung over her shoulder, and he gripped it tight.

"You should sit down," he offered, placing a hand nervously against her back as he guided her into the living room and over to an old beat up sofa he was more than a little embarrassed about, but Carol didn't seem to mind. She just seemed relieved to have a place to rest for a moment.

The baby continued to cry, and Carol rocked it gently, and he saw the panic in her face, as the little one refused to calm down. It was then that he noticed the paper bracelet around her wrist and the anxious way she held the baby.

"Christ, Carol? You just come from the hospital?" he asked, moving to sit next to her on the couch. Carol's shoulders shook as she failed to fight back the tears. She bit her trembling lip and looked down at the baby. Its little foot poked out from the blanket sporting a matching hospital band.

"I didn't know…I couldn't go back there," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Daryl. The hospital called me a cab, and he asked where to, and the only place I could think of was to come here. I couldn't…I couldn't…" She broke down in tears again, and Daryl placed his hand on her shoulder briefly, before he drew it away as if he'd been burnt. She wasn't his. He couldn't touch her like that anymore. Even after five years, all he wanted was to hold her and tell her he was sorry and make everything right.

"Where were you?"

"Savannah," she admitted, sniffling and wiping at her nose. Daryl swallowed hard.

"You took a cab over 250 miles?" He reached out, tilting her chin in his hand, examining the fresh bruises and the cuts on her face. "What'd he do to you?"

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, cradling the baby. "I couldn't go back home. I couldn't. Not with her. She didn't ask for this." The baby's cries grew more insistent, and Carol pointed toward the bag. "I have a bottle made up for her. Can you…?" Daryl nodded, unzipping the bag and feeling around until he grabbed hold of a baby bottle. He took the cap off and handed it to her, and the baby's cries instantly ceased the moment her lips started suckling, and the formula hit her tongue.

"You can stay in the back bedroom," he offered. "But I ain't got a cradle for a baby."

"It's ok," she said quietly. A loud clap of thunder startled them both, and the baby fussed before Carol began to rock her, and she resumed feeding from her bottle.

Sharp pings rattled through the house as it began to hail, hammering against the tin roof. Carol shivered, and Daryl grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, quickly draping it over her shoulders. She looked up at him, giving him a little nod of thanks.

"What about your parents?" Daryl asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

"Dad died last year. Heart attack. Mom died shortly after you and I…you know. I just…I wanted to call, but I was…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked back down at the baby in her arms.

"M'sorry," he murmured. "They were good folks. They hated my ass, but they were good folks."

"You were good to me," Carol said gently. "They respected that." She sniffled. He could hear her stomach growl, and she cleared her throat, trying to cover it up. Without hesitation, Daryl reached for the phone and dialed. Carol's eyes filled with momentary fear. "What are you doing?"

"Callin' for pizza. Ain't got a damned thing in my fridge."

"Oh," she said with a little nod.

"You like pepperoni and bacon, right?"

"You remembered," she chuckled.

"'Course I remember," he said quietly, turning away from her when her gaze met his. He ordered quickly, hung up, and without words, turned and headed into the back of the house to make the back room decent for company for at least one night.

When he returned, Carol was finished feeding the baby and had unwrapped her to gently pat her back. She wore a little pink outfit, and her little eyes struggled to stay open.

"You just have her?" he asked, startling her. She took a deep breath.

"She was born yesterday. Perfectly healthy. Perfect in every way." She worried her lip between her teeth. "I'm terrified, Daryl."

"What about your husband?"

"Ed didn't want kids," she said quietly. "I tried to be careful, but these things…they happen. He wanted me to have an abortion." She sniffled, and she shook her head. Daryl didn't make a movement or a face or any kind of gesture that might upset her. He just sat there, and it wasn't long before the words came falling out. They had always been able to talk to each other, and the longer they sat together, the less it felt like it'd been five years since they'd seen one another. "But, she's my baby, Daryl. I didn't think I had the strength to fight him, to leave him. Not until I saw that ultrasound picture. I divorced him, Daryl. I hid from him, but he found me. The night he did this…" She gestured toward the cuts and bruises on her face, "I went into labor. He left me on the floor of my kitchen, and my water broke, and he just…he just…he left. I drove myself to the hospital."

"Christ," Daryl murmured. His knuckles went rigid and white as he balled his hands into fists at his side.

"You don't want to hear all of this," she breathed. "I just…I needed you to know. I needed you to see I didn't have anywhere to go, and I'm sorry for burdening you. I can leave in the morning. I just needed a place to stay tonight. I didn't want to be alone. I couldn't." She took a deep breath, suddenly standing with the baby in her arms. "I'm sorry. I should go. I shouldn't be here."

"Hey. Hey, stop." He stood quickly, bringing his hands up her arms, to her shoulders, calming her like he used to, like he tried to the night he broke her heart. And he saw a flash in her eyes, and he knew she was thinking of it too. He let go, he stepped back. "You don't have to go anywhere. Ain't gonna kick out a woman with a baby. Ain't gonna make you go nowhere. Your husband gonna come lookin' for you?"

"He…he might."

"He know you'd come here?"

"I never talked about you after…it was too much. And then when I realized the kind of man he really was, I was terrified to ever mention your name. Didn't want to piss him off." She sniffled. "He knew I was with you when he met me. It wasn't until you…that I…I never even gave him a second look, Daryl." She shook her head, and he felt the guilt rise in his throat like bile. He looked at the wounds on her face; he couldn't miss the faded scars on her arms from fingernails. He could just make out the yellowing bruises on her neck. The bastard had choked her. The longer he looked, the angrier he became. He'd never laid a hand on her, but he might as well have made those wounds himself.

"We should call the police, tell 'em what he did."

"They took everything down at the hospital. The ER staff called the police for me when they were waiting for a bed for me in labor and delivery." She swallowed hard. "I have a restraining order on him, but you don't know Ed. You don't."

"You said he didn't want kids."

"He doesn't, but she's his, and that…that makes her _his_. That's Ed. That's who he is. He doesn't love her. He wanted her dead. He wanted…he wanted _me_ to feel the pain of losing her, but I didn't. She was ok. And I…I just want to forget I ever met him." She closed her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

He watched the way she looked back down at her daughter, holding her so gently, as if she were afraid she'd break. He watched the way her hands shook as she rocked the baby to sleep. She'd aged, her hair was short, parts of her were blemished, marked by cruelty, but she was still the same beautiful Carol he'd fallen in love with. She was the same person he'd imagined spending his life with, the same woman he couldn't hurt by dragging her into a life with him. If he hadn't pushed her away, she'd still be here, she wouldn't be hurt. But all he could think about all those years ago was that if she stayed, she'd be choosing a mediocre life with a man who had a hellish upbringing, a man who could barely make ends meet, a man who couldn't give her all the things he knew that Ed Peletier could. And pushing her away had been the biggest mistake of his life. And how was it she was sitting here now and not telling him how much she hated him? She had every right to blame him, to scream at him and ask him why he pushed her away, leading her to start a relationship with a man who treated her as less than human. But she wasn't.

She'd come to him, because she had nowhere else to go. She still trusted him. That was the kind of person Carol had always been. The kind of person he'd fallen in love with. Still loved.

"I made a mistake," she said softly, as the rain continued to hammer down on the roof above. "Marry Ed was a mistake. I didn't see him. I didn't see _it_ in him. I was stupid." She shook her head, and Daryl looked away. "I wanted to come back when I left Ed. I wanted to see you, but I didn't have your number. I took a shot coming back here. I didn't know if you'd still be here. I just needed to see someone I knew. Someone I trusted. You were the only one, Daryl." She looked down at her daughter. "I thought of you, and I felt safe, and I'm sorry to burden you with that."

"You ain't a burden. I'm glad ya came. I wondered 'bout you."

"You did?" She sounded genuinely surprised, and goddammit, why wouldn't she? He was the one that broke her heart.

"I wondered if you were happy, you know?"

"I was," Carol said softly. "For about a year. And then it all changed." She sniffled. "After the first hit, I told myself it wouldn't happen again. The second? I thought he'd change. And before long, the excuses were as regular as the beatings, and I just told myself I'd live through it, because this was my life."

The more he listened, the more he hated himself, and he got up, putting some distance between them.

"Daryl?" He said nothing. He just nodded toward the back of the house.

"You go on and clean up. Gonna go pick up some things. She need diapers?"

"Um…I have a few," she offered.

"I'll go get 'em. There's some money in the bowl on the counter for the pizza. You'll be alright?"

"I'll be ok," she said with a nod. He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, before he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed to the door. "You can eat without me. Might be a while." He headed outside and walked to the pickup, feeling the cold rain soaking through his shirt, cooling his skin. He hopped into the pickup and leaned against the steering wheel, taking a few gulping breaths as he looked back toward the house.

For as long as he lived, he would never forgive himself, even if she could.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The storm had ended, for the time being, but according to the weatherman on the radio, it was supposed to storm well into the early hours of the morning. And by the time Daryl returned to his house, it was nearing midnight, and he'd been to three stores, trying to bide his time and give her time to rest before he came back.

He honestly wasn't sure what to say or do. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? He'd thought he was doing the right thing at the time. He'd never forget seeing Ed Peletier talking to her from a distance, fawning over her, treating her like she was made of gold, like she was precious. He hadn't seen through the son of a bitch, either, and he'd thought that if Carol had a chance to see what else was out there, she might have a chance at a better life. And he'd broken her heart.

He'd sat her down and told her it wasn't going to work, because she was going to college, and he was staying put, and neither one of them were going to be happy to be apart, and she'd told him she'd rather stay and go to a local college, even though he'd known her dream had been a college several hours away. And then he'd started with the lies—white lies, he'd told himself—about how he needed space, and how things were moving too fast, and how he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. Only he had been, and he'd even had a ring in his top dresser drawer. He'd had a plan, and he'd wanted a family, and he'd wanted to wake up to see her beautiful face with the sunrise every morning. But she deserved more than that. More than _him_.

And now, as he sat in the pickup outside the house again, he wondered how the hell she was back in his life. He remembered seeing the crushed look on her face, the way she'd just turned away from him, as if she'd been unable to look at him when he'd told her, when he'd took everything they'd had together and just tore it all to hell.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of the truck and grabbed several bags out of the back. He made his way up to the house, and when he let himself inside, Carol was lying on the couch, and the baby was wrapped up, tucked up against the back of Daryl's old chair, edged by a pillow, even though she was too young and weak to be able to roll herself over. She was sleeping soundly, and Carol blinked sleepily as Daryl walked through the door.

"You were gone a while," she said quietly. "You ok?"

"M'fine," he grunted, hoisting the bags up and onto the couch. "Got some diapers. Figured these would fit. Some blankets. Um, I got somethin' else. Be right back." He disappeared out the door, and in a few minutes, returned carrying a large box, straining as he carried it over the threshold. On the picture was a bassinet.

"Daryl, you didn't have to do that. I…I have money. I just…"

"It's fine. Baby needs a place to sleep. I'll get it put together for ya." Carol looked away.

"I…thank you, Daryl. That's really kind."

"Ain't nothin'," he muttered, sitting down and getting started putting the bassinet together. Carol sat quietly, watching him work. It took him damned near an hour to figure out which part went where, but in the end, he got it all put together, gave it a little shake to make sure nothing was loose, and then he pushed it toward her.

"Let's see how she likes it," she said with a little smile, moving over to the chair to pick the baby up. She gently placed her down in the bassinet, and the baby continued sleeping on. Carol let out a heavy sigh and sat back down on the couch slowly. "We have a winner."

"Good. Um, you got yerself a shower?"

"I didn't want to leave her alone. Um, but now, I know she's….and you don't have to watch her or anything. I just…I'll only be a few minutes."

"Go on," he said with a nod. "She cries, I'll think'a somethin'." Carol watched him uncertainly for a moment, and she leaned down, gently running her hand over the soft top of the baby's head.

"I'll be quick," she promised. Daryl only nodded, picking up the bags and taking them to the back bedroom, while Carol picked up her bag and headed to the bathroom. When Daryl returned to the living room, he peeked into the bassinet, seeing the baby sleeping so soundly. She looked like Carol. Had Carol's nose and mouth, and she even had that auburn tint to what little hair she had, and he wondered if it might be curly or straight. Would she grow up to look just like her mama? He sure as hell hoped she didn't grow up favoring her daddy, because the last thing Carol needed to be reminded of for the rest of her life was the son of a bitch who put his hands on her and hurt her like that.

He moved away, turning to sit back on the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, listening to the sounds of Carol rummaging around in the bathroom. He felt a hollow ache in his chest, a dull longing every time he thought of her, of the bruises, of the pain in her eyes. He could remember it like it was yesterday, the way he'd gone to her. She'd been laughing in the living room, watching some funny show. He couldn't remember what it was. He could just remember the sound of her laughter, the sound of happiness.

He had taken the ring out of his dresser drawer and looked at it, looked at the door and then back at the ring, imagining asking her to marry him and how she would say yes, because she loved him. Of course she'd have said yes. But he never could bring himself to ask her. All he could imagine back then was giving her a mediocre life, when she deserved so much more than that.

He'd gone to her, and the smile had faded from her face. The laughter had stopped. And the he'd ended it, and she'd looked like he'd ripped her heart out and stomped on it. His own heart felt like it was in similar shape, and he should have felt better knowing that he was doing right by her, but all he could feel then was pain. Knowing he'd given up the only good thing he'd ever had in his life had been more painful than never having had that kind of love at all.

"Daryl?"

Daryl glanced over at the hall entrance, and he saw Carol standing there, her hair slicked back from the shower, dressed in an oversized blouse and a pair of comfortable pants. He realized he'd been in his head for quite a bit, and he had lost complete track of time.

"You need somethin'?"

"Um, I think I used all the hot water."

"S'alright," he said with a shrug. "Had a shower after work anyway."

"Oh," Carol said with a nod. "You're still…"

"Still at Micky's," he said with a nod.

"Daryl," she said quietly, padding barefoot into the living room. "I want to thank you. I was anxious, coming here. But we were best friends once. We were a lot of things. Once." She looked away briefly before gathering the courage to look him in the eye again. "I thought about the safest I ever felt, and that was with you." She swallowed hard. "And I know you moved on, and you wanted other things, but I'm glad to be here, and I won't put you out or anything. I'll move on, and…" She was rambling, and he remembered her tendency to do that when she got nervous. "I just…I missed my best friend."

"Missed you too," he said a bit gruffly, scooting over on the couch to make room for her. She sat down nervously. "You can stay as long as ya like. 'Til ya get on your feet."

"Thank you," she murmured. He nodded, getting to his feet.

"M'goin' to bed. You need anything, just knock. I'm a pretty light sleeper."

"I remember," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good night, Daryl."

"Night." And then he was gone, and Carol peered down at her sleeping baby daughter in the bassinet.

"It's gonna be ok, Sophia. I promise, you'll be safe here."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When Carol woke in the morning, after a very wakeful night of walking back and forth with a crying baby, Daryl was already gone. Work, she assumed. By the time she was fully awake, Sophia was sleeping soundly, and she figured, if today was anything like yesterday, she'd sleep most of the day, only waking for feedings and changings.

Carol left the bedroom door open while she made her way through the house. There was a full pot of coffee, still hot, which made her smile, despite the pang of sadness that filled her heart. He'd always had a pot of coffee ready for her in the mornings when they were together. It had been the little things like that that had made her love him even more each and every day.

She had a simple breakfast and two cups of coffee, and by the time she'd finished the dishes, Sophia was ready for a bottle. Thankfully, the little one went right back to sleep after eating, so Carol put her back down and moved into the living room. It felt strange to be in the house with Daryl there. It felt strange, knowing that he'd just up and left without saying anything. She couldn't honestly blame him. He'd been the one to push her away, to tell her that they needed to end things.

She'd hurt for a long time, and being with Ed, in the beginning, had been a way to ease that hurt, though she knew now that she'd only been covering it up, because with Ed, she'd never truly been happy. She'd been happy enough, until the abuse started, and then her life had turned into a nightmare, and the memories of how happy she'd been with Daryl, coupled with her need to keep her child safe, had been the only things that had pulled her out of her denial and gave her the courage she needed to get away from and take her life back.

She sat down on the couch, looking around, hearing nothing but the old clock ticking away on the wall. She pulled the throw off the back of the couch and curled up with it, wrapping it around her shoulders, smelling that familiar faint scent that was all Daryl with a hint of cologne. It took her back to those early days where he'd slip his hand in hers and lead her somewhere special, somewhere secret where they could be alone and not even speak. They just were. Together.

She found herself smiling as she thought back to the way he'd first told her he'd loved her, all nervous and twitchy, like he was distracted, and she'd thought something was wrong from the moment he'd picked her up to the moment they'd reached the old lake at the county line. They'd sat for a good ten minutes in silence as Daryl started and stopped and started and stopped and just couldn't get the words out, until she put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him and told him that if he didn't start talking, she'd start walking. And that had done it. He'd told her he'd loved her and how he knew he didn't deserve her, and she'd told him to shut up and that she loved him too, and that the only thing she hated about him was that he thought he wasn't good enough, because he was it for her. And that had been the night she'd been sure they'd spend forever together.

He'd hurt her. Cut her deep. She still felt scarred inside, as if she wouldn't heal. Seeing him again last night had brought it all rushing back to her, and she'd felt embarrassed for running to him. He hadn't wanted her. He'd told her that in his own way, but she'd seen it in him as he'd pushed her away. It cut him, too.

She'd been angry for a long time. She'd been angry, because she'd loved him, still. She'd wanted more, and he'd ended it all, because, why? Because she wanted to go off to school? As if she wouldn't have stayed at a local university in a heartbeat if it meant staying with him. But he hadn't wanted that. He'd asked her to move on and find someone else. He'd asked her to leave him alone so he could move on with his life. It had been brutal.

But they'd made love that night. She'd thrown herself at him, embarrassing herself like so many women in the movies, but she hadn't cared. She'd have clawed her way through that door if it meant keeping him in her life, but he hadn't resisted. He'd held her and told her he was sorry and he'd loved her, and in the morning, she'd woken before him, and she'd gathered her things and left, and that had been it. She'd always regretted not staying, not waiting for him to wake. Maybe a night's sleep had changed his mind, but she'd left without a look back, because it had already been too much. Too painful.

Seeing her had to have been a shock. She imagined the last person he'd ever expected to show up on his doorstep had been her. She'd written him. Once. A month before her wedding to Ed, asking him to give her a reason to leave him. Asking him to change her mind. The letter hadn't come back, and she'd never known if he'd gotten it. It had been like he'd dropped off the face of the earth. Calls had gone unanswered. And she'd slowly resigned herself to living without him, to living a life with Ed. Ed had everything most girls would want. Charm, money, a good job. But she knew she was resigning herself to a life of mediocrity the second she accepted his proposal. She didn't care about the money. She shied away from the big events he like to parade her around at. When she'd started avoiding his business parties, he'd started resenting her, and it had all gone downhill from there.

A clap of thunder shook the house, and Carol jumped, gasping softly as she made her way to the window just in time to see a bolt of lightning splinter across the sky. She stepped back as the rain began to pelt down in sheets, and it made her shiver. She swallowed hard, moving toward the back of the house to check on Sophia. Sophia slept soundly, and Carol couldn't help but smile down at this beautiful, perfect baby. How had something so beautiful come out of something as vile and ugly as her marriage to Ed?

It terrified her to no end to think that Ed might try and stake his claim, might try to find them, might try to hurt them. This town was her home, had been her home since she'd met Daryl, and it had been that feeling that had sent her fleeing Savannah as soon as she'd left the hospital. This was her safe place. This was her home. Being in Daryl's home without Daryl was a little off-setting, but she still felt safe knowing that she had distance from Ed now, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't know where to start looking.

As the storm began to rage outside, Carol felt the exhaustion settling in again. She pulled herself back into bed, pulling the covers up snug over her shoulders. She trembled there, feeling tears prickling at her eyes, trying to brush them away with her fingertips, brush them away as leftover hormones from the pregnancy. But the truth remained that even after five years, even after all of the abuse she'd endured, even after giving birth to this baby, her heart was still here. In this place. With Daryl. And it had never really left.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When Daryl returned home from work, he didn't know what to expect. He certainly didn't expect a quiet house, much less one that was clean and tidy. He could tell, the moment he stepped through the door, that the fine layer of dust that had settled over the coffee table and the TV stand were gone, and the floor had been swept. The room looked a little brighter, too, as if the windows had been cleaned.

He furrowed his brows at the smell of cooking food, and he made his way to the kitchen to see Carol standing there wearing a light blue sun dress. She was barefoot, and there was music playing, and he could see faint bruises on the back of her neck that she'd tried to cover up by brushing her hair down as far as she could, but there was no hiding them.

"What're you doing?" he asked, startling her. She turned around, her cheeks red as she chewed her lip nervously.

"Um, I thought you might be hungry, and I thought I'd make you dinner. As a thank you for…you know, everything."

"You should be restin'."

"I've rested."

"You didn't have to clean. You just had a baby. Should be takin' it easy." Carol nodded, blinking back a few surprising tears. He realized, suddenly, that Carol must be used to cleaning and cooking, even when she was feeling her worst, because Ed probably expected food on the table and a clean house no matter what when he returned home from work. "You don't gotta do all this."

"I wanted to," she offered. She took a step toward him, and she swayed a little, the heat from the stove clearly having had an effect on her. Daryl reached out, taking her gently by the elbow as she swooned in front of him.

"Hey," he murmured. "Come sit down. I'll finish up." She didn't argue with him. She let him lead her over to the table and to a chair, and she watched as he moved to the sink to wash his hands before he went over to the stove to stir the boiling pasta. "How's the baby?"

"She's been fussy today. I read somewhere that white noise sometimes helps them sleep, so I vacuumed." Daryl nodded for a moment, eyeing her before she shared his gaze, and he had to look away. Memories of running his fingers through her hair, of getting that smile out of her just because, of leaning in, lips a breath apart, brushing against her soft mouth, tasting her and feeling like he could lose himself kissing her. It was too much. He pulled himself across the room, busying himself in the fridge, pulling a beer out and popping the cap. She watched him from where she sat, and she finally looked away, noticing that he was avoiding her gaze.

He took a few long pulls on his beer before he put it down with a heavy clink on the counter. He jumped at the sound of it, having not intended to be so rough. He saw her flinch, and he cleared his throat, moving toward the stove to finish what she'd started.

"I'd like to go into town," she said quietly.

"You need somethin'? I can go get it for ya."

"I'd like to get out of the house," she admitted.

"Ain't got no room for a car seat in the pickup," he grumbled.

"Oh," Carol said quietly. Daryl thought for a moment, before he nodded.

"Pickup ain't safe for the baby," he pointed out. "I can take the truck into the shop, have somebody who knows what they're doin' install it so ya don't have to worry."

"Oh, you don't have to bother," Carol said quickly. "I can always take the bus."

"Don't gotta take the damned bus. I'll take care of it." Carol knew he wasn't being mean. He was just distancing himself, and why wouldn't he?

"Thank you," she said quietly, standing up quickly. He watched as she avoided looking at him and made her way down the hall and toward the bedroom.

"Fuck," he muttered, placing the stirring spoon down on the counter. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He made his way down the hall and found her sitting on the edge of the guest bed, her lower lip trembling. The second she spotted him, she turned away. "Shit, Carol. M'sorry. Didn't mean to snap at ya like that. Just…ya just had a baby, and I can get the things ya need. But if ya really wanna go out, we can take a walk 'til we get a car seat put in proper. Just don't wanna be puttin' the baby in danger."

"I know," she sniffled. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta apologize. Yer exhausted." She nodded, peering over at the bassinet and sighing heavily. "Why don't ya get some more sleep?"

"She'll be up soon."

"She ain't up now. Rest. I can finish dinner, and I'll wake ya when it's ready."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"M'sure. Ya look like you're gonna drop." His voice was softer now, gentler, and she thought back to a time she was sick and he'd taken care of her, his touches feather light, his hand warm against her back as he'd soothed her. She missed that, yearned for that, but she knew it was all in the past. Now, he stood before her, a different man. And she was different too. Their worlds had collided once again, and she felt a bit shell shocked. It was odd to be here, to be with him, to feel these things that she'd felt so long ago but that should could never let herself feel again, because the time was gone, and he wasn't hers anymore.

But Daryl was right. She was exhausted. Keeping her eyes open felt like a chore now, so she wasn't going to argue. She simply slid back on the bed and lay back on the mattress. She could still feel his eyes on her as he lingered a little too long in the doorway. But she didn't look at him. Couldn't. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the sound of his footsteps down the hall. When she knew he was gone, she opened her eyes and let out the sob she'd been holding onto for so long. Maybe this was all one big mistake. Maybe she never should have come. Maybe it would have been better if she'd gone somewhere else, started over where nobody knew her and where the past could stay in the past.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Carol woke up suddenly when Sophia began to fuss. She blinked, letting her eyes focus on the afternoon haze. It was late afternoon. Much later than it should have been. The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, but the house was quiet, and the only sound coming from outside was the sharp crack of a rogue tree branch slapping the side of the house in the wind.

Carol shivered, gathering Sophia out of the bassinet and holding her close. The baby was wet and probably hungry for a bottle, so Carol quickly changed her diaper and carried her to the kitchen, where everything was cleaned up, and a plate of food was wrapped in foil on the table. She gently touched it. It was still warm, and her stomach growled at her own hunger.

Sophia's cries became more insistent, and Carol sighed softly, moving toward the counter, attempting to make the baby's bottle one-handed. It took some doing, but she managed, and the baby's face was bright red by the time she popped the nipple into her mouth, and it took a little urging, but the baby finally began to suckle, and she was surrounded in silence again.

She squinted, peering at the stove clock. It was getting late, and as she peered out the front window looking for any sign of his pickup coming up the street, but there wasn't a soul around. It was eerie, as if everyone had disappeared, as if the world had come to an end or a standstill, and she and her daughter were alone. She knew it was silly, but she shivered, nonetheless.

 _He wouldn't leave_. _That's not Daryl._ Tears stung her eyes as she peered down at her daughter. Daryl hadn't left her. He'd pushed her into leaving him. He'd broken things off, but in the end, she'd been the one walking away, because she'd seen it. She'd seen the pain in his eyes. One kiss. One soft brush of a hand against his cheek. Something. Anything. She could have changed his mind. But she'd walked away. _He loved me._

The front door opened and shut softly, and she hear Daryl's footsteps retreating down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door and then briskly walking back toward the living room.

"Carol?"

"Kitchen," she called softly. Daryl poked his head around the corner. "You didn't wake me for dinner."

"I tried," he said quietly, shoving his hands into his pocket. "You was so still I almost had to hold a mirror up to your nose to make sure you were still breathin'. Then ya snored, and I figured you were alright."

"I didn't snore."

"You snore," he said with a chuckle, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest, thankful he seemed to be in better spirits. She'd spent far too long trying to read Ed's moods, trying to tread carefully around him, not that Daryl would ever be anything like Ed. But she hated knowing that her being there was putting him in those moods and that he was so uncomfortable around her now. _He always loved me, even when it hurt too much_.

"Hey, I got somethin' for ya."

"Daryl, you don't have to…"

"Look, ya can't be cooped up in the house forever, and my boss owed me a couple favors for workin' without pay for a few weeks when things were rough. You wanna come outside with me?" Carol eyed him for a moment, and she realized she had tears in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. His tone was soft, apologetic, and she could tell by the way he stood in the doorway, his knuckles white, that he was nervous as hell. Some things never changed. She gave him a half-smile and nodded, adjusting Sophia in her arms and making sure to keep the bottle angled right so the baby wouldn't swallow too much air.

She slowly followed Daryl out of the house, fully expecting to find that he'd gotten an infant seat installed in the truck, but what she found instead, was much more surprising. It was a small four-door car that looked to be old but in decent shape.

"Daryl? What did you do?"

"I got it dirt cheap," he said with a shrug. "Needs some fixin' up, and I can fix it. Gonna take some time, but I'll have it workin' good as new."

"Daryl, I can't accept this," she said softly, shuffling her bare feet against the cement porch. "I can't."

"Why not?" He glanced at her then.

"It's too much."

"Told ya I didn't pay much for it. My boss owed me, and…"

"It's not that," Carol said, shaking her head.

"Well, if ya don't want it for you, take it for the kid. You're gonna need to get her to doctor's appointments and…"

"Daryl," Carol said quickly, "I wish you'd asked me. I don't want to owe you _anything_. I feel like I already owe you too much as it is. I just…" She felt the tears brimming in her eyes again, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It's too much. It's too big a gift." He watched her then, his eyes zeroing in on hers, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed down whatever it was he was feeling in that moment. She held Sophia close, rocking her back and forth as she held Daryl's gaze.

"You don't want it, just sell the damned thing. Do whatever you want." He moved past her then, opening the screen door and heading into the house, letting it shut loudly behind him as he walked. Carol trembled, standing there as the cool evening breeze washed over her. And then the tears fell.

 _The fuck were you thinkin'? She don't want nothin' from you. Why would she? You're just the worthless piece of shit that broke her heart 'cause you were too stupid to believe she'd ever want a lifetime with you._ Daryl sat out on the back porch, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He felt like the world's biggest asshole. Here was this woman who had come to him, desperate for help, exhausted and healing from giving birth, and he'd not even known how to act around her.

He'd been an asshole to her over the car. But it had pissed him off. He'd paid little to nothing for it, and his boss, frankly, had just wanted to get rid of it. But Daryl knew better than Mickey. The car could be fixed up and turned into a reliable car. It just needed some work. All he'd wanted was to give it to her so she'd have something to get her from A to B, and she hadn't wanted to accept it.

He'd wanted to give her something, hoping that maybe, somehow, she'd see that he wasn't just the asshole that had sent her away, that had inevitably been the reason she'd ended up with Ed, because he was too stupid to see that just because she married a man with money, a man who could take care of it, didn't mean she would end up happy. And she hadn't. She'd ended up hurt, abused, alone, desperate. He hated Ed Peletier, and he hated himself for not holding onto her like he should have.

"Daryl." He didn't turn. But he saw her bare feet out of the corner of his eyes. She moved to sit on the step next to him. She smelled like apples and sweet tea, and he could feel her warmth as she sat so close. The fireflies were beginning to come out, and he focused on that, focused on the way the breeze washed over him, cooling his skin, though his neck felt like it was on fire.

"I'm going to pay you back," she murmured. "You don't understand. I don't…I don't need you to do these things for me. I appreciate it. I do. But I _will_ pay you back." She swallowed hard, and she looked down at her hands that were clasped in her lap. "When I'm feeling better, feeling able to manage things alone, I'm going to start looking for work. And then I'll find an apartment somewhere."

"You don't…"

"I _do,"_ she insisted. "I can't be a burden to you. I spent my entire marriage feeling like a burden to my husband."

"Well, that ain't what you are."

"It doesn't change the way it feels," she said quietly. "And Ed. Ed made me feel like a burden. He reminded me, every chance he got, how he felt about me." She gently moved her hand to the back of her neck, rubbing her fingers gently over the bruises. Daryl looked at her then, looked at the way the bruises seemed to stand out against her pale fingers.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You didn't do anything," she said softly. "I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have…I should have explained before." She swallowed hard. "You don't have to give me _anything_ , Daryl. Just your letting me stay here for a few days? That's…that's everything. And I don't think I could ever pay you back. I don't think you'll ever know how much it means to me." She looked away then, staring out at the fireflies, her eyes glistening as she forced the tears back. "I don't know how I let my life get so messed up."

He watched her, unable to take his eyes off the way her lip quivered, the way her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. It hit him then that she didn't blame him. She didn't blame him one goddamned bit for how her life had turned out.

He suddenly wanted to touch her, wanted to feel the warmth of her skin against his hand. He took one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it out into the yard. He suddenly reached for her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefingers. Her eyes closed at his touch, and he turned her face gently toward his.

"Why?" He studied the way the pain etched into her face as she struggled with something inside. She opened her big, blue eyes, and a tear slipped out. "Why did you just keep runnin'? Why didn't ya go somewhere else?" He watched her suck in a sharp breath. It wasn't an angry question. He wasn't telling her to go. He was genuinely curious, and she knew that, because she knew him.

"Because there's nobody else I trust more in this world that you, Daryl Dixon." The weight of it hit him like a tidal wave. He was the one that broke her heart. Broke _her_. And she trusted him. And all he could do was think about the way her skin felt against his hand, remember the way it felt to kiss her, remember the way he'd never been happier than when he was in her arms. Inside of her.

He pulled his hand back like he'd been burnt.

"You shouldn't trust me," he murmured, standing up quickly. "Only thing I ever did was hurt you." He turned then, walking into the house and leaving her to her own thoughts and to the fireflies flickering in the breeze.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Daryl retreated to his bedroom, turning the bedside light on and sitting down at the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair, cursing himself for getting so damned worked up. His heart was pounding and his stomach ached, and all he could think about was the feel of her skin against his hand. He hated himself for that. She didn't need that kind of confusion in her life. Hell, _he_ didn't need that kind of confusion in his life.

He could hear her footsteps retreating down the hall. He could hear that floorboard just outside of his door squeak the way it did when you lingered on it a little too long and shifted your weight. He could almost see her there, standing there on the other side of the door, her hand reaching for the knob. But it never turned. The door never opened, and after a few moments, the sound of her footsteps retreating to the guest room echoed through his head like his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

He grunted in frustration, hoisting himself up off of the bed and moving to the dresser across from the bed. He opened up that top drawer, reaching into the back, sense memory kicking in as he remembered exactly where he left it behind his folded up ties, ties she'd bought him and he'd never worn, except for the blue one, that once on graduation day, and she'd helped him tie the knot, kissing him and telling him how handsome he'd looked.

He felt the hard case covered in felt, and he pulled it out, opening it to reveal the simple diamond ring, a ring he'd bought with what little money he'd had saved up. He'd never given it to her, and she'd never known about it, and he wondered how different his life would be—how different _hers_ would be—if he'd been man enough to ask her that question.

He shut the case with a loud click, stuffing it back inside the drawer, his hand sliding over paper, a crinkling sound reminding him of what it was he was looking for. With a frown, he pulled the envelope out from under his ties, and his eyes ghosted over her handwriting. Her handwriting. He'd never opened it. Never, not once. It was still sealed as tightly as it had been the day it had arrived in his mailbox, the hint of lavender perfume catching his nose as he'd pulled it from the box.

He moved to the bed, sitting back and gently ripping the top of the envelope enough to jimmy the paper out. He cursed himself the whole time. It was a bad idea. The letter was old, it didn't matter what it said. The past was the past. There was no changing it. No changing his mistakes. Still, the more he tried to talk himself out of it, the more he _needed_ to know what it said. He unfolded the paper, still as pristine and white as the day she'd written on it.

 _Daryl,_

 _I shouldn't be writing this. I'm getting married. Soon. In a month, to be exact. I love him. I do. But not the way I loved you. Love you. I still love you, and I don't think I ever stopped. He's kind to me, but there's something in his eyes when he looks at me that tells me he's nothing like you. Nobody could ever be like you. I miss you, and I know you ended things. But I'm asking you to give me a reason not to marry him. Can you do that? Because, I swear to God, Daryl, I would leave in a heartbeat if you asked me to._

 _You're my best friend. You're the one I've told all my secrets to since I was fifteen. You understood me better than anyone ever did, better than_ he _ever will. I can't stop thinking about the night before I left. The night you held me. The night you made love to me. I left before you woke up, and it keeps playing over and over in my mind. Would you have changed your mind? Would you have asked me to stay? Should I have stayed a little longer? Should I have fought harder when you pushed me away?_

 _I'm terrified of never knowing, and I'll never forgive myself for not waiting. I need to know. Do you still think of me? Do you still love me? Have you moved on? Should I? I think I'd be ok with Ed. I think I'd be happy enough. But I want more. I want extraordinary._

 _I love you. I miss you._

 _Carol_

He read it three times, each word driving into his heart like a knife, twisting and digging in a little bit more. By the time he finished his last read through, his hands were shaking, and he felt like he'd been socked in the stomach. His lungs struggled for breath, and he put the letter down, getting up from the bed, putting as much distance between himself and her words as he could.

His head spun with the realization that she'd thought about that morning, thought about what would have happened had she been there when he'd woken up. He'd thought about that a million times. He'd woke up that morning feeling like the world was right again, like they could work through anything, and he'd seen she was gone, and he'd realized he was never going to see her again, and from that moment, the moment he'd stood on the front porch looking at the empty ruts from her car tires, he'd wondered what had run through her mind that morning as she'd gathered her things and left him as he slept, left him with one last kiss on his lips and one last good dream of everything that _could_ be if he would just _let_ it be.

 _God damn it. It's your fault. It's all your fault. You were too fucking stubborn to open the goddamned letter, and you did this to her. You let her marry that abusive son of a bitch. And look what she has to show for it. Scars. Bruises. She's a victim. Because of you._

A soft tap at his door startled him, and he crossed the room quickly, pulling open the door, startling her at the quickness of it all. Her eyes met his, her lips parted quickly in a gasp, and she placed her hand against her throat, swallowing back the rush of anxiety that had hit her like a wall the moment the door opened.

She took a step back. He took a step forward, and her hand moved out, pressing gently against his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heart pulsed against the heel of her hand, the his breath hit her face in quick gusts, the way her heart raced a little bit when she realized he was leaning forward.

And then his mouth was on hers, and his fingers were curling into the short hair at the nape of her neck, his hand was applying gentle pressure, and even in it all, he was careful, minding the bruises, pressing soft kisses to the cut on her lip, soothing the pain with something more powerful, something raw. He felt her open up, kissing him in kind, pulling him closer, needing to feel something more, something bigger than fear, bigger than anger, bigger than hate. For a moment, it was five years ago, and everything was right again, and nothing mattered but them and this and now.

And then he pulled back, and she tightened her hand against his shirt, keeping him there, not willing to let him go.

"M'sorry," he panted. "I didn't…"

"You didn't want to," she whispered. "You didn't want to hurt me. Not now. Not then." She leaned against him then, her body still aching, still tender, but surprisingly accepting of _his_ nearness, of _his_ kisses. _He's not Ed. It's safe. He's safe._

"I hurt you. I did that," he murmured.

"You hurt me. I won't deny that," she said softly. "I thought the world dropped out from under me. But I…I knew you. I _know_ you. You wouldn't have done it if…"

"It don't matter," he said roughly. "It's done. I did that."

"Why?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"It don't matter! None of it matters," he growled. "It's done. It's over. No use dwellin' on it." He pulled away, and this time, she let go of his shirt, and he stumbled backward into his room.

"Daryl!" she called out. "Stop."

"We ain't doin' this. We ain't," he growled, hand resting on the edge of the door.

"Don't push me away. Just talk to me. Please," she begged. Daryl huffed, grabbing of his pack of smokes, finding the pack was empty. _Fuck_. He didn't dare brush past her, didn't dare invade her space so aggressively. He just watched her silently, waiting for her to move, and she was unyielding. But then he saw her shoulders shake, and then she was fighting back the tears.

"Carol…"

"It's true," she whispered. "You didn't. You didn't want me. God, I'm so stupid." She sniffled, shaking her head, backing up into the hallway. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry." She turned to leave, and that was when she felt his hand grip her elbow, not rough, not angry like Ed. He was gentle, putting the slightest pressure there just to get her attention. And when she stopped, he let go.

"I wanted you," he murmured, unable to look her in the eyes. "I wanted every…everything. I had a ring. I wanted to ask you, and all I could think of was you spendin' your life here with me. And you deserved better'n me."

"Daryl…"

"I saw ya with that asshole. I saw him and I didn't see it either. Didn't see the man that would hurt you the way he did. I saw somebody who could give ya more than I ever could. Give ya a nice house, give ya nice things. That's what I saw."

"I never cared about any of that. You should have known," she whimpered. "I loved you, Daryl. I…the letter. I wrote a letter."

"I never read it. Not 'til just now. Tonight," he murmured.

"Oh," she said softly, unable to come up with any other appropriate words to sum up how she was feeling. She sniffled then, taking pause to let the gravity of the situation sink in. "You kept it?"

"Couldn't throw it away. Couldn't bring myself to read it, neither."

"Why?" she asked as the tears began to flow freely, sliding down her cheeks.

"'Cause I was a damned coward. 'Cause I thought I had to let you go. I thought I had to be the one to…" He shook his head. "You sent that letter, and it was too late. It was too late to do any damned thing, because I convinced myself that you were better off." His voice was low now, angry. "Look at you. Look what he did to you." He gently ran his thumb over her upper arm, where a few fingertip shaped bruises were beginning to yellow. "That's 'cause of me."

"No," she whispered, reaching out, placing her hand against his cheek. "He did that. You didn't. You…you…" She let out a choked sob. "Everything you ever did was because you loved me, and I…I was stupid enough to believe that maybe you really didn't love me. Maybe you really were done with me."

"I messed up," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair, moving out into the hall with her. "I can't change what I did. Can't make up for it. But I can help you."

"That's why you bought me the car? To make up for your stupidity?" She gave him a half-smile to let him know she was only joking.

"Didn't say I was smart. Look, I just…I feel responsible for this."

"You're not."

"Don't mean I don't feel it. I pushed you away, and you ended up with a man who treated you like dog shit. Least I can do is help you get on your feet. Help you make a new life." He saw something in her eyes just then, and he wasn't quite sure how to read her. "You can stay here. Long as you like. Don't go thinkin' you have to move out, 'cause ya don't."

"I do," she said softly, with a little nod. "I have to build a life for myself. For Sophia." She swallowed hard, and he could see the pain in her eyes. "And I'm going to pay you back for that car."

"Won't take your money."

"Yes you will."

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Let me do this for you. For Sophia." He nodded toward Carol's room, where Sophia was sleeping. "Don't be so damned stubborn." It was then that he saw the sparkle in her eyes, and for a moment, she was sixteen again, riding shotgun down the hilly back roads, no cares in the world except for being with him, being happy.

"Daryl Dixon," she murmured, leaning in, pressing her lips against his forehead, "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't opened that door." He wasn't certain if she'd meant tonight or last night, when she'd down up on his doorstep, but the oddly unsettled feeling in his stomach told him that maybe he wasn't ready to know.

"M'sorry I was such an asshole," he muttered. "Just didn't understand why ya came to me. Thought ya would hate me."

"You're the only man, aside from my father, who ever treated me like I was worth something in this life. Your heart was in the right place. I didn't understand it then. I see it in your eyes, now." She gave him a sad smile. "Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for finally making me understand it." He said nothing, only nodded, feeling a bit numb. She turned then and disappeared down the hall to her room, and he closed his own door before retreating to the bed.

He didn't sleep. He lay there, staring at the ceiling all night, words echoing through his head, tugging at his heart. He tossed and turned, fisting his hands into the cool sheets, trying like mad to make himself comfortable. He only served to wear himself out, but he didn't sleep.

 _Do you still think of me? Do you still love me?_ She'd written the words years ago, and he knew, with an unwavering and absolute certainty that the answer always was and always would be, yes.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The morning after their impromptu heart-to-heart, they had settled in for breakfast and not really talked about much of anything. For the two weeks following, they settled into a routine. Carol would be up when Daryl got up for work, because the baby would be awake for a feeding. By the time Carol went back to sleep, Daryl would be leaving for work.

She had used the car on a couple of occasions just to get out of the house and get some shopping done. She'd gone to buy some much needed groceries, to which Daryl had offered to give her money for what she'd spent, and she'd refused. She'd explained to him that if she was going to be staying with him, she was going to help out, and she still had enough money to tide her over until she found work.

They didn't talk about that night. In fact, they seemed to avoid talking about that night like the plague. Daryl kept an uncomfortable distance from her, too, as if he was terrified to touch her, as if being in the same breathing space was too much. And Carol tried. She tried like hell to get him to loosen up, to try and get back some semblance of a friendship with him, but every time they began to talk, began to reminisce, they were simply reminded that things weren't that way anymore. Maybe things could never be that way again, and it was an empty, unsettling feeling that left them both a bit shaken.

On one particular afternoon, Daryl returned home from work to hear music playing as he walked up onto the porch. He peered through the window to see Carol swaying gently in the living room with Sophia in her arms, smiling and singing to her, looking happier than he'd seen her the entire time since she'd come back.

The more he watched, the more he listened, he came to realize that the song she was playing, the song she was swaying to with Sophia in her arms was the song that was playing on the radio the night they'd made love for the first time.

He never much thought about the little details. He thought about the way her hands moved shakily over his arms and shoulders, the way she moaned softly as he tried to make her comfortable, the way her mouth had tasted when he'd kissed her, the way it had felt to have her wrapped around him. But that song. There was no mistaking that song, and hearing it, seeing her smiling and singing along to it hit him like a freight train.

He cleared his throat, shaking the thoughts from his mind. She wasn't his anymore. He wasn't supposed to think about those things anymore.

He hadn't paid attention to the music turning off or to the sound of the lock clicking open. When the door opened, he jumped, startled, and Carol greeted him with a smile.

"You're home early," she said. "I was just getting Sophia to sleep." Sophia was, in fact, asleep. "I think she likes music."

"Like her mama that way," Daryl noted. Carol smiled, stepping out of the way to let him in. She disappeared to the back of the house with the baby before returning empty handed. She cleared her throat, moving into the kitchen to check on supper. "I keep tellin' ya, you don't gotta cook for me."

"I know," she replied. "And I keep telling you that I like to. Deal with it, Dixon."

"You just last-name me?"

"Maybe," she replied with a chuckle. He felt a warmth spread through him. He'd never admit it, but his favorite time of day was coming home from work, seeing her face when he came through the door. These past couple of weeks had been rough and emotional, but things were getting better, and he knew she was trying to make things work. Maybe they wouldn't ever get back to what they were. Maybe they weren't supposed to. He didn't even know if that was a thought in her mind, and he sure as hell wasn't about to make any assumptions. All he knew was that having her back was like breathing for the first time.

"You get the car out today?"

"I took Sophia for a ride earlier. Car puts her to sleep about as well as dancing does."

"Run ok?"

"Yeah. But I noticed it hesitated when I let up off the brakes at a stoplight."

"A'right. I'll take a look at it." He moved to start toward the door.

"You don't have to do it now."

"S'alright. Won't take long."

"Wait. Daryl, I wanted to talk to you about something." She saw him hesitate for a moment. He glanced at her, and she gave him a nervous smile. Then she turned toward the stove, stirring the stew that was starting to simmer. "It's nothing bad. I just…wanted to let you know."

Daryl moved toward the fridge and poured himself a glass of sweet tea, Carol's special recipe. He didn't know what the hell she did so different, but whatever it was, it was the best damned sweet tea he'd ever had in his lie. He turned, leaning against the counter, taking a few large gulps of the cold liquid, as beads of moisture dripped from the glass.

"Alright," he said after a few awkwardly silent moments.

"I was at the supermarket getting diapers and formula for Sophia. Well, I ran into a really nice man named Hershel Greene. You know him?"

"The vet? Sure I do," he said with a nod. "Worked on one of his tractors out on his farm once. Nice man."

"Well, he took to Sophia. Says he's got a brand new grandson about her age." She smiled a little. "Well, I told him how I used to live here, and he said he remembered my parents. Well, we got to talking, and I guess he's got a lot of contacts around here, because he said he thought he could help find me a job."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, I won't be able to start right away, of course. I'll have to make arrangements for Sophia, and of course, I'm not physically ready to go to work yet, but it was…it was a step in the right direction." Daryl eyed her for a moment before giving her a short nod.

"That's good."

"I gave him your phone number. I hope that's ok."

"S'fine," he muttered.

"As soon as I get back to work, as soon as I start making some money, I'll find a place."

"Ain't no hurry," he murmured, looking away.

"Well, I'm sure you've got…you've got people you might want to bring over without having me and a baby around." His gaze snapped up to hers then. Was she fishing for clues on his love life? Was she wondering if he had somebody? Hadn't it occurred to her that if he had had somebody, they surely would have been around in the last couple of weeks?

"Ain't nobody," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze again. "Gonna go out, work on the car." Then he was up, crossing the room and gone in moments, and Carol turned back to the stove, focusing on finishing her cooking and not on thinking about how she felt disjointed, as if everything around her had changed, but she'd stayed the same, and at every turn, there was a wall, and she felt like she was moving in circles.

Yes. She would find a place for her and Sophia. She would move on so he could move on, and maybe then things would be better. She knew it was a lie, but it was something, and right now, it was enough to convince her that maybe there was still some happiness waiting for her. When the ashes settled, maybe she could finally begin to rebuild her life.

...

Carol sighed softly, yawning and wrapping her arms around herself as she sat on the top step, just outside the screen door on the back porch. The temperature had dropped, and the storm clouds were rolling in. She'd always loved thunderstorms. She'd always slept like a baby when the wind howled at the house shivered in the wake of the strong gusts of wind.

When she'd married Ed, storms had turned into something else entirely for her. She'd come to dread them, because they would put him in a foul mood. He'd beat on her during the strong storms, and the thunder would muffle her pleas. She'd gotten a few nasty scars during thunderstorms. But now, tonight, she welcomed it. She closed her eyes, leaning into the breeze, the sweet smell of cut grass and honeysuckle filling her with a memory of lying on her back in the grass, holding his hand in hers, not yet calloused from years of working on cars and motorcycles.

She smiled then, remember the way he'd hooked his arm around her, pulling her against him, pulling her on top of him, her hair falling into his face as he reached up, brushing his fingertips against her cheekbone.

Her skin tingled there, and she lifted her hand, feeling the warmth flushing her cheeks. And then her mind went to more recent memories, to the heat of his breath against her lips as he crashed down on her, of the feel of his fingertips soothing away the ache of the bruises on her neck as he kissed her, of his tongue sliding against hers, his lips gentle, healing against her own.

"Gonna be a bad one," Daryl murmured, gently pushing open the screen door. Carol scooched over so he could step out and join her on the stoop.

"Good," Carol said with a gentle smile. "My favorite kind of weather." She took a deep breath and settled into the silence with him. After dinner, he'd disappeared back out to the garage, and this was the first she'd seen of him since.

"Got the car fixed."

"Thank you," she murmured. She felt her heart skip a beat, felt the nerves coiling in her belly again, felt the brush of his hand over hers as he settled next to her. He removed it as quickly as he'd placed it there, but the touch was still there. The warmth. Gentle.

 _We aren't going to talk about it? It's been two weeks. You kissed me. You just want to pretend it never happened?_

"I'm off tomorrow. Thought we might take Sophia to the park."

"You don't mind?"

"Nah," he murmured.

"Ok. We could have a picnic. I could make some fried chicken, and…"

"You don't gotta do all that. We can order somethin'."

"You're turning down my fried chicken?" Carol asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. He couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Well, I can't blame you." The first time she'd attempted fried chicken for him after learning how to do it in home economics class, she'd put the chicken into the fryer still frozen, and while the outside was more than done, the inside was still raw, and Daryl hadn't been able to eat chicken for a whole year after that. "But my skills have improved quite a bit since the last time I made you chicken."

"You don't gotta keep cookin' for me all the time. I know how to cook."

"Well," Carol said slowly, considering her words, "maybe you can cook for me sometime then."

"Alright," he said with a shrug. "Can't guarantee it'll be as good as yours, but I ain't died livin' off my own cookin' yet, so I guess it ain't that bad." Carol laughed then, really laughed, and his nervous resolve cracked a little, and he chuckled too.

 _Why don't we talk about it? It happened. I liked it. Didn't you?_

"We best get inside. Gonna storm, soon."

"I'm going to stay a little longer. You go in if you want." Daryl made no attempt to leave, and Carol glanced at him, a smile curling up in the corner of her mouth.

"Nah, I'm good right here."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was such a nice day, that Carol had suggested walking to the park. It wasn't too far away, and she wanted to get some exercise anyway. Her figure was slowly coming back to what it used to be, but she knew she'd never be the same. Still, she had enough energy that she felt like a walk would be nice, and Daryl didn't seem to mind at all.

She pushed the stroller, and he walked along side her quietly. To cut the silence, she would ask him about things she remembered from high school, about people she was curious about, if he knew how they were today. He would answer the questions he knew the answer to, but he was awfully quiet.

By the time they reached the park, Carol grabbed the blanket out from under the stroller. Daryl took it and spread it out under a large, shady oak tree.

The picnic basket was filled with all the perfect fixings for a picnic. Fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, slaw, and even some homemade cherry pie. Carol went about unpacking the basket, and just as she began, Sophia began to cry. She started to put the basket aside and go to her daughter, but Daryl reached the stroller first.

"I got 'er," he promised. He gently unstrapped the baby from the travel system and lifted her into his arms. He was still awkward at picking her up, but as soon as she was in his arms, he was a natural, easing her head against the crook of his arm, rocking her as if he had been rocking babies his entire life. "She gettin' heavier? Feels heavier."

"I'm sure she is. She has a doctor's appointment in two weeks, and I'm sure they'll tell me she's twice what she was when she was born." Carol shifted slowly on the picnic blanket, and Daryl could see the discomfort in her face.

"You ok?"

"Uh...yeah," she blushed. "Just a little…you know…sore."

"Oh," Daryl muttered, looking down at the baby, focusing on the way she blinked her dark eyes, the way her fingers flexed and curled. It was hard to tell, but he was pretty sure she had Carol's eyes. He decided to reserve final judgment until the kid was a little older and it was more obvious.

"Daryl?" Carol called a bit loudly to him, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked at her. "Where were you? I said your name four times. You just zoned out."

"Sorry," he muttered. She bit her lip a little, smiling as he looked back down at the baby. Sophia seemed to have an enchanting effect on many people, but it was especially sweet to see Daryl taking to her so well.

"You want me to take her so you can eat?"

"Nah, I'm good. You go on. Eat first. I've got her." Carol hesitated before putting down her plate.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Alright."

"Did I ever say something? Did I ever do anything to make you think that I deserved better than you?" He froze, eyes locked on hers, lump firmly pressed in his throat. He swallowed, trying to get rid of that choking feeling.

"No," he said quietly.

"Then why?" She saw a shadow pass over Daryl's face, and he moved to put the baby back in her stroller. She only fussed momentarily, before Daryl popped a pacifier in her mouth and settled back down on the picnic blanket. He picked at a few blades of grass that had somehow ended up on the pretty blue fabric. "Daryl?"

"Why?" he asked. "My whole life, I never thought I was good enough. Not usin' it as an excuse. Just a fact. Wasn't 'til I met you that I felt like somebody like me might actually have a chance to be happy. Then that last year in school, you were so excited 'bout college, and I didn't have any plans. I was just gonna work. And you were just…you were happy. And I picked out that ring thinkin' things could stay that way. But then…then I noticed other guys noticin' you." He shrugged slightly. "Thought, damn, these guys might be able to give her somethin' I can't."

"Daryl," she murmured. "How could you ever have thought back then that I would have wanted anything else? I would have rather stayed and gone to a local college than move away from you. But then you…you said the things you said, told me we shouldn't be together. What else could I have thought? I was…"

"I know," Daryl murmured. "And I ain't ever gonna be able to tell ya I'm sorry enough times, 'cause I was stupid. But I thought I was right. Hell, maybe I still believe I was. You deserve a hell of a lot better than a guy like me could ever give you."

"What I deserve? I deserve somebody who treats me right. Who loves me. Who wouldn't ever put a hand on me just because he wants to prove who has the power. You never put a hand on me. Never. You were good. You _are_ good." She reached out, daring to put her hand over his against the picnic blanket. "You were _everything_ to me."

All though flew out of his mind the second her thumb brushed over his knuckles. A shiver ran down his spine, and he stared down at her hand, stared intently at the way her hand laid against his.

"You kissed me," she finally murmured. "The other night, you kissed me, and it was…what was that, Daryl?"

"I don't know."

"Daryl…"

"I don't... Look, you show up back on my doorstep, and I'm thinkin'…hell, I don't know what to think. Seein' you just brought everything back."

"Everything?" she wondered. He looked away. "You said you read the letter."

"I did," he murmured. "Was a long time ago you wrote that."

"It was," she agreed. She swallowed hard, pushing back everything she'd been forced to forget while married to Ed. She squeezed his hand, tentatively, urging him to look at her, which he finally did. "I don't expect anything from you. I just…I need to know if I'm crazy, because I'm feeling these things, and maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's because I'm just a mess right now, but I feel these things that I've always felt, and I…I need to know if I'm the only one."

"You just had a baby. You just got a divorce. You really wanna be askin' me this right now?"

"Above anything else," Carol said softly, "you are _still_ my best friend, even if the years put some distance between us. Yes, I'm asking you, because I need to know if there's still something here. I need to know if…if there's a chance that we can try this again. Maybe. Sometime." She was shaking now, and she wasn't looking at him, and his hand moved out from under hers. She felt naked without him so close.

"Hey," he murmured, reaching out, touching her shoulder. God, it was a simple touch, a neutral touch. But it was something. "You ain't crazy. And you ain't the only one." He saw it then, the flicker in her eyes, the spark that told him that maybe everything was going to be ok.

...

Carol and Daryl headed back home with Sophia after the picnic. No sooner had they gotten through the door that Carol moved to take Sophia out of her stroller and swooned a little. Daryl, who had had his eyes on her the entire time, was there to help her to the couch the moment her knees started buckling.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Mmmhmm," she said with a weak nod. "Just overdid it today, I think." Sophia started to fuss, and Carol made a move to get up.

"Don't. I got her. You rest."

"But…"

"You been pushin' yourself too much. Doin' all this cookin' and cleanin' while tryin' to heal and take care of the baby. Ya don't gotta do all that. Just rest."

"Daryl, I'm fine."

"You ain't fine. You're exhausted. Shoulda drove to the park."

"I _wanted_ to walk. I just overestimated my energy level. That's all."

"You been to the doctor?"

"I'm getting checked out when Sophia does. I'm fine. Probably just a little low on iron. I've had that problem before, even before I got pregnant." Sophia's cries grew more insistent, and Daryl sighed, moving to help Carol up from the couch.

"C'mon."

"What?"

"You're goin' to bed."

"I don't need…"

"Maybe ya don't think ya do, but I'm tellin' ya, you gotta rest. You gotta take care of yourself, 'cause Sophia needs her mama."

"I'm not dying, Daryl," Carol chuckled, as he helped her down the hall. Her arm moved around his waist, clutching him as he helped her walk. She had to admit, he was right. Her knees shook as he helped her back there. She had been pushing herself too much, doing way too much for a woman who just had a baby, but she was used to working through aches and pains. She'd done it through much of her marriage to Ed. It had just been a part of life. Even after she got pregnant, before she'd left him, she'd worked from sunup to sundown to make sure the house was in order before he came home. It was just routine, part of her life.

He helped her sit down on the bed, and the second she was down, her shoulders sagged, and she let out a yawn.

"Told ya you needed to rest," he pointed out.

"Please, I'm just getting my second wind," she argued. He pulled back the sheets for her, and she crawled under, lying back against the pillows. "You don't have to do all this."

"You done plenty for me, and I shoulda been the one takin' care of you."

"I'm used to it," Carol said with a shrug.

"Look," Daryl murmured, moving toward the door, turning back to face her, "I ain't Ed. You don't gotta have dinner on the table when I get home from work. The place don't have to be spotless. I'd rather see you restin' on the couch and the place a mess than see you makin' yourself sick doin' all that work." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute. "Get some rest. I'll take care of Soph for ya."

"You?"

"How hard can it be?" he asked with a shrug. She eyed him, raising her brows. Finally, she shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she said, unable to hide the tired smile that spread over her face. He nodded, turning to leave. "Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." He nodded, a little grunt sounding from his throat as he walked out, closing her door behind himself. She sighed softly, listening as Sophia's wails continued from the living room, and she didn't let herself fall asleep until the crying stopped. Only then, did she feel like she could rest for just a little while.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next couple of weeks were a little more comfortable. Carol rested more, Daryl helped out with the baby when he got home from work so Carol could have a little quiet and relaxation. They fell into a comfortable routine, and things didn't seem so awkward anymore. They talked more, talked about how things used to be, about their lives in the last five years. Carol often avoided talking about her marriage to Ed, instead, focusing on stories of her schooling and of her hopes for Sophia.

By the time she was a month old, Sophia was thriving and seemed to have grown a head full of fluffy blonde hair overnight. Daryl would joke that she kind of looked like a baby chick with all that fuzz, and Carol would roll her eyes, knowing he was teasing, because that baby seemed to have him wrapped around her little finger.

Carol was waiting out on the porch one particular afternoon, with baby Sophia nestled in her arms, suckling happily at her fingers as she slept. Daryl couldn't help but notice the beaming smile on Carol's face as she shifted her weight anxiously from foot to foot.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, stepping up and eyeing her before running a calloused thumb over the top of Sophia's head.

"I have good news," she replied with a bright smile. "I got an interview."

"Interview?" he asked, trying to mask the fact that the moment she said it, it felt like somebody had socked him in the gut. If she was getting a job, this meant she would be moving soon, and that just wasn't something he was ready to think about just yet. "Where at?"

"Well, the bank in town. I put my application in last week, and I talked to Hershel. He's good friends with the branch manager, so I'm going to cross my fingers. It's just a teller job, but it's something, and the pay is promising."

"Well, that's…good, right?"

"Yeah. It's great! It means I can finally get out on my own and let you get back to normal."

"I aint' in no hurry to see you leave," he pointed out. "You can stay. Long as you like. I told ya that before."

"I know," she said with a little smile. She adjusted the baby in her arms, and she kissed the top of her head. "Hershel's invited us to dinner tonight with his daughters and his son-in-law. I hope it's ok that I accepted the invite. I just…it might be nice." She saw Daryl's shoulders slump. He'd always hated social situations. Some things never changed.

"Alright," he finally said with a nod.

"You don't mind?"

"Nah. Hershel's alright. Guess I can put up with the rest of 'em for an hour or two."

"The rest of them?" she asked with an amused grin, cocking her head to the side. "Have you ever met the rest of them?"

"Nah. Don't make it my business to be meetin' everybody that lives 'round here."

"Well," Carol said with a shrug, "thank you for making an exception and joining me." She smiled, and he felt warm inside, and God, if he wasn't thinking about kissing her again. "We need to shower?"

"What?"

"Um," she corrected, "we _both_ need to shower. I need to feed Sophia, so you can go first, if you want."

"Oh," he mumbled. "Uh, yeah. Ok." He cleared his throat, ducking his head slightly before he hurried into the house, leaving Carol red-faced on the porch, rolling her eyes skyward. She was thankful when Sophia let out a whimper.

"Alright, little miss. Let's go get you something to eat, too, hmm?"

...

Daryl came walking down the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist. Carol glanced up from her spot on the couch, where she was just burping Sophia, and her breath caught in her throat. He'd always been toned, well-muscled, but he seemed even moreso now as the rivulets of water dripping from his hair cascaded over his shoulders, chest and arms. She felt a heat burning in her belly as she watched him push back the mop of wet hair from his eyes.

"Left ya plenty of hot water," he offered. She wondered, by the way his nipples were pebbled into peaks and the way his arms were covered in goose bumps, if he hadn't taken a cold shower. But she didn't let her thoughts linger there for too long.

"Thank you," she said with a nod. "Sophia's fed and changed. And she's _just_ about to go back to sleep. I'll put her down, but can you listen for her?"

"Sure," he offered. "No problem. Just gonna go finish gettin' dressed." Carol nodded, watching as he turned, seeing the way the towel slipped a little lower on his hips, exposing the top of his ass, and he made no move to cover himself as he disappeared down the hall.

His scars had faded. She remembered back when they were bolder, darker, more defined. She knew he'd always have them, and she knew she was one of the only people he'd ever let see them, and she felt a sadness fill up her heart when she realized that there was a pretty damned good chance that he'd never let anybody get that close to him. And that he felt, at least, comfortable enough with her now to let her see them again spoke volumes.

She stayed put for a moment, until Sophia let out a soft sigh, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She stood, carrying the baby back to her room, putting her down in the bassinet, making a mental note that a crib was going to be necessary very soon.

She took her time in the shower, letting the hot water sooth her still sore muscles. She ran her hands over her breasts, still a bit tender, still heavy and swollen from the pregnancy. She moved her hands down her belly, feeling the curve where she still hadn't quite flattened out. She washed between her legs, still tender but healing.

She ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, letting the soap and water soothe her, washing down her body and down the drain. She sighed heavily after she was finished washing, leaning against the shower wall as the warm water poured down on her.

Finally, she turned off the shower and dried herself off, quickly slipping into her bra and panties before tugging the sundress over her head that she'd picked out for tonight. It was a blue color with a lavender belt around the middle. The straps were thin, and she blushed a little at how much it showed off her cleavage, more cleavage than she was used to having before the pregnancy.

She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it back before applying the smallest bit of gel for styling. Next came the makeup. She hadn't worn makeup in so long, it felt strange trying to apply it. Just the slightest hint of eyeliner, a pinch of soft, pink blush, just enough to give her cheeks some color, and a dab of lipstick, flesh color, but still, something. Ed had never let her wear makeup. She'd tried to put it on once, and he'd asked her who she was trying to impress, and that had ended up with her being beaten senseless on the bedroom floor.

When Carol stepped out of the bathroom, she moved slowly down the hall to find Daryl standing at the window, his back to her, cradling Sophia in his arms.

"She woke up again?" Carol asked gently. Daryl turned, his gaze locking on her as soon as he spotted her. He froze.

"You look…wow." Carol beamed at him.

"Thank you," she said gently, gripping the sides of the skirt of her dress, doing a quick circle to show him the whole ensemble. When she faced him again, she saw him swallow hard, and her face grew hot. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

"Yeah, guess so," he replied. He looked down at Sophia, who was sucking on her fingers. "Yeah. A car backfired somewhere, and it woke her up. She's alright though." Carol nodded, and she looked at the clock.

"We should get going. Hershel's expecting us in a half hour."

"Oh. Sure."

"Want me to get her?"

"I got her," he assured her. "Gettin' pretty good at putting her in her carseat."

"You are," she agreed with a smile. "Alright, you take care of that, and I'll get the diaper bag and lock up. Daryl headed outside with the baby, and Carol reached for the diaper bag and the keys. As she moved backward, a loud squeak startled her, and she smiled to herself when she realized it was a stuffed bear that Daryl had bought for Sophia last week. It moved her beyond words how attentive Daryl was with Sophia. And in some ways, it was heartbreaking, because she knew, eventually, she was going to move on, move out and there was a chance she wouldn't get to see him every day.

Things were good. Better, anyway. And there were certainly feelings there, but neither of them seemed to be keen to act on them. For her, she feared that opening herself up to that again would only leave them both hurt. And she wondered if maybe he felt the same way.

"You comin'?" Daryl hollered from outside. She shook the thoughts out of her head and sighed, tossing the bear onto the couch.

"On my way," she called. Just as she was turning, the phone rang, so she made a detour to the coffee table to pick it up. Probably Hershel making sure they were still coming.

"Hello?" Static. "Hello? Hershel? I'm sorry, I can't hear you." Nothing. She sighed. "Well, if that's you, we'll be over soon." Just as she came to the door, Daryl peeked through the screen door, holding Sophia.

"Who was that?"

"Probably Hershel," she said, furrowing her brows. "You might want to get your phone checked. All I could hear was static."

"That's odd. Called Rick earlier and didn't have no problems."

"Must have been a bad connection," she suggested, shrugging her shoulders as Sophia fussed. She smiled, focusing her attention her daughter now. "Oh, don't you start that now. We're going in the car. You love the car, Sophia."

"We best get goin' fore they eat without us."

"See, that's the spirit."

"Hey, m'hungry," he muttered. "Long day at work. And free food is free food. Right, Soph?" Sophia blinked and grunted, and Carol laughed. "See? She agrees with me. Yeah. You agree with me, don't ya, Soph?"

"Yeah, yeah," Carol said with a dismissive wave and a laugh. "Come on. We don't want to be late."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"You're right on time," Hershel Greene said with a chuckle, as he opened the wide glass door that led into his beautiful farm house. The smell of a roast cooking and the sweet smell of pie wafted out, and Carol swore she heard Daryl's stomach growl.

"Everything smells amazing," Carol said with a smile, as she walked in first with Daryl right behind carrying Sophia in her car seat.

"Well, I can't take credit for that. My girls learned from their mamas. Beth does most of the cooking around here these days, since her mama passed."

"I'm sorry," Carol said with a sympathetic nod.

"It's a part of life," Hershel said with a sigh. "We get through one part and move on to the next. Looking back is ok so long as it doesn't slow you down." Carol thought for a moment, the words resonating within her as she glanced at Daryl.

"Beth? Maggie? Glenn? Our guests are here." A young blonde girl came out first, her hair pulled in a high ponytail, eyes bright and wide and innocent as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

"Hi," she said with a cheery smile.

"This is my youngest. Bethy, this is Carol and Daryl. This is Carol's daughter Sophia."

"Oh, I just love babies," Beth cooed.

"She's got her nephew spoiled already," Hershel chuckled. A young woman came walking out, her dark hair pulled back, her eyes a bit red, dark circles under them from lack of sleep. She cradled a baby boy against her chest. He had a head full of black hair, and he sucked at a pacifier he fought sleep against his mother's chest. "This is my oldest, Maggie and my grandson, Henry." A young Asian man came out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand, giving a smile and an awkward wave to Hershel's guests. "And there's my son-in-law, Glenn."

"It's nice to meet you all," Carol said with a wave.

"Daddy says you used to live here," Beth said, reaching to take baby Henry from Maggie.

"I did. A few years back."

"Are you just visiting, or are you here to stay?" Maggie wondered.

"Um, I'm not sure yet," Carol admitted, glancing briefly at Daryl, who shifted uncomfortably next to her.

"Where's your husband?" Beth asked.

"Beth!" Maggie hissed under her breath. "Aint' right to ask that."

"Sorry," Beth said glumly. "I just...I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Carol said with a stiff smile. "Um, Daryl's been nice enough to let me stay with him until I get back on my feet. I really like it here, and I'm hoping this interview at the bank goes well. I'd like to stay for a while. I think Sophia would really like growing up here."

"You're the one who worked on Hershel's tractor, right?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah," Daryl said with a nod.

"You do good work. Maybe you can look at my piece-of-sh…"

"Language," Maggie said sternly at her husband, glancing at her father, who clearly didn't appreciate foul language in the house.

"Uh, my car," Glenn replied quickly, bowing a nod of apology to Hershel, who waved his hand in dismissal and cleared his throat.

"Alright, I think supper's ready. Let's eat."

...

Once the wine came out, Daryl loosened up a little. The adults each had a glass of red wine, while Beth stuck to lemonade. Maggie and Carol had shared a chuckle while putting the babies down so they could have their hands free to eat. The little ones seemed to snuggle into one another in Henry's bassinet. Maggie had commented on how they looked like two little sardines all squished together, which was when they took the babies upstairs to the room Hershel had set up when the baby stayed with him. There was a big crib and a rocking chair, and it made Carol ache for a house with a nursery just for Sophia, a place she could spread out and raise her daughter.

The conversation mostly consisted of small talk, talking about Carol's move back to town, wholeheartedly avoiding the subject of her husband and the very faded but visible cut that had almost completely healed on her lip.

At several points during the meal, Carol could feel Daryl's eyes on her, and she could feel the heat rise in her neck and face, and she'd take a sip of wine, trying not to meet his gaze, because despite her curiosity, she was also terrified about what she'd find when she looked at him. She was more confused now than ever, and she was getting tired, at this point, of the mixed signals.

He'd told her she wasn't the only one feeling these things. But then he'd been completely neutral toward her for two weeks. And then he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and he'd shy away if she even brought up the subject of them. It was just too much, and she knew she was just working herself up and making herself crazy, but she'd had enough crazy in her life. And if they hadn't been somebody's dinner guests, she probably would have slammed her glass down and asked him why he was staring, because she was sure as hell getting tired of the way they were both walking on eggshells around each other.

Just as the pie was being served, a horn honked from outside, and Hershel visibly cringed when Beth immediately stood up. She caught her father's look.

"Um, it's Jimmy, Daddy."

"Bethy, could you please tell your friend to come to the door when he comes to visit you? It's impolite to sit out front and honk the horn like that. He could at least come to the door."

"Daddy," she groaned. "Can I be excused?"

"Go on, but please pass that reminder onto your friend." Beth sighed but nodded, and she hurried out of the dining room. Maggie and Glenn shared a knowing grin, before Maggie took over serving the pie.

"Daddy, you remember what it's like to be young and in love, don't you?" Maggie asked.

"I do, but at least I had the common courtesy to pick your mother up at the front door. I didn't sit there and lay on the horn. Back then, a young man was expected to show good manners when courting a lady."

Carol smiled a little, catching the way Daryl was glancing at her again. When she caught him, her eyes flickered with something he couldn't quite figure out. She cleared her throat and started to get up. To her surprise, Daryl stood too, pulling her chair out. Carol raised an eyebrow in surprise, and she cleared her throat.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," she said with a smile. "I'll be right back."

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low, thick with concern. His hand instinctively moved to the small of her back, a concerned gesture, to be certain, but it set her blood on fire.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Eat your pie." She flashed him a little hint of a smile, her heart hammering against her ribs as she swallowed hard and stepped away from the table. "Excuse me."

"She alright?" Hershel asked, eyeing Daryl as he slowly sat back down. Daryl glanced at the older man and then at the concerned faces of Maggie and Glenn before he stood back up.

"I'll check on her." He cleared his throat and followed the path Carol had taken out toward the back patio doors. He found her there, leaning against the side of the house, her hand on her chest as she took a few deep breaths. She moved her hand down to her side when he stepped out. "Hey. You sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine," she promised.

"You warm? You need some water? Wine gettin' to ya?"

"No," she said with a chuckle. "I barely had any. You drank yours down pretty quickly, though."

"Hey, free wine. Ain't gonna say no." Carol chuckled at that, and she turned to face him. "What's wrong? You're actin' different."

"I'm fine." He continued watching her, and she sighed. "You're staring."

"Sorry."

"Not just now. All night. You've been staring at me."

"Oh," he muttered, clearing his throat, shuffling his feet and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Sorry."

"It's…don't apologize. It's fine. I just…I don't know how to _be_ around you. We don't talk. Not about...you know, the things we should be talking about. And you kissed me that night, and you told me you were…you were having feelings. That's what you meant, right?" He said nothing, but a little duck of his head assuaged her uncertainties a little bit.

"We need to talk about it."

"We don't," he muttered. "You ain't ready…I just…"

"Don't tell me what I'm ready for. Don't do that," Carol said with a shake of her head. "I'll tell _you_ what I'm not ready for, and you can tell me, but don't put words in my mouth." She swallowed hard, lowering her voice. "What _do_ you want?"

He moved his hands out of his pockets and gripped the edge of his shirt for a moment. Then he cracked his knuckles, and she sighed softly, tilting her head to the side as she watched him. She watched his tongue dart out to wet his dry lips and then he took a step toward her. She wasn't sure what to expect, wasn't sure what to do, but the moment his hands were on her hips, she followed his lead. And when his hand came up to cup her cheek, she closed her eyes, and then his mouth was on hers, and everything felt right again.

Her hands came up his arms and shoulders, gently caressing his neck, before she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as his hands gripped at her waist. She opened her mouth to him, moaning softly as he slid his tongue against hers.

She gasped softly when he turned her, gently pressing her back against the side of the house, and then his mouth was on her neck, and she was biting her lip to keep from urging him on. They had a dinner to get back to, but God, it was too good to put a stop to.

"Daryl," she murmured breathlessly, reluctantly. "Daryl, wait." He pulled back then, sucking in sharp breaths as he rested his forehead against hers.

"M'sorry."

"Stop apologizing," she murmured, tracing her finger down his jaw. "We should get back." Her voice was low, a whisper. His hands trembled at her hips. "Are you ok?"

"Not sure," he admitted. "Not sure 'bout anything. But I sure as hell don't wanna go back in." She giggled softly, wiping her thumb across his lips.

"Lipstick," she whispered. "You look ok now. Go in first. They're probably worried. I'll be in in a minute."

"Alright," he murmured reluctantly. He leaned in again, pressing his lips against hers, leaving her with a yearning for more, but it wasn't the time. They weren't ready. This was going to take some time, but as he walked back into the house, the fluttering in her heart and in her stomach told her that time might be all they needed to get this right for once.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Warning: This chapter contains physical abuse. May be a trigger.

Carol could hear Daryl giving Hershel some explanation for Carol's need for fresh air, and from the silence that followed, they seemed to understand whatever it was he'd told them, so she took a moment to walk across the patio and look up at the sky. It was a clear night, not a cloud to be seen, and the moon was big and bright. The stars twinkled like millions of tiny little fireflies caught in a black net.

With a smile, she thought back to one night in the back of Daryl's truck, hands slick with sweat, slipping against each other, laughing and kissing and basking in the cool breeze as the stars hung over their heads, an infinite number of possibilities out there, just for them, waiting.

She heard what she thought was a giggle, and that snapped her attention back to the presence. Then she heard it again. Oh, young love, she thought, remembering that Beth had gone outside to meet her beau. But the next sound didn't sound quite like a giggle. In fact, it sounded painted, and Carol quickly moved off of the patio and walked along the back of the house toward the truck that was parked all the way up the drive by the large oak tree.

"Jimmy! Stop! That hurts!" Carol could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and she swallowed thickly, a sweat breaking out at her brow. "I told you, no! My daddy would have my hide!" Carol rounded the side of the house, just in time to see Jimmy pressing Beth up against the truck, one hand gripped firmly around her wrist, the other tugging harshly at the hair at the nape of her neck.

"You your daddy's girl, or are you mine?" he asked, face pressing close to hears. Even in the darkness, Carol could see Beth flinch, trying her best to wrench her arm free of his grasp. Carol thought back to the first time Ed had handled her that way, and she felt her stomach turn at the memory.

"I'm yours," Beth squeaked out, "but, Jimmy, you don't…"

"It matters what _I_ think. You gonna grow up, or you gonna be a little girl the rest of your life?" he asked, letting go of her hair and gently stroking her cheek. "Baby, I'm sorry. You know how I get. I don't like doin' this to you. Don't like makin' you cry."

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm sorry, Jimmy." He pressed a kiss to her lips, and that was when Carol stepped into sight. Beth gently pushed on his chest and nodded toward Carol with wide eyes. Jimmy quickly let go of Beth and moved at least two feet away from her.

"Evenin', ma'am," he said with a nod, tipping his hat to her.

"I think you should leave, Jimmy," Carol said quietly.

"He doesn't have to leave," Beth insisted. "We were just talkin'."

"Yeah, I see how he talks," Carol said boldly, stepping closer. "Jimmy? What's your last name, Jimmy?"

"Sanders, ma'am." He swallowed hard, looking every bit like a little boy caught doing something bad.

"Jimmy Sanders, you better just get in that truck and be on your before I get Beth's daddy out here. Because I _will_ get him out here, and I _will_ tell him just exactly what I saw."

"What?!" Beth asked, horrified, tears streaming down her face. "Please, don't! Please, don't tell my dad."

"Why don't you get in that truck and leave, Jimmy, before her daddy comes out here with one of his nice, big, hunting rifles?" Jimmy swallowed hard in that moment, fumbling for the door handle on the truck. He didn't even pass one glance toward Beth before he hopped in and started the truck, peeling out and hurrying off down the gravel drive, leaving Beth and Carol standing in a whirlwind of dust.

"Why'd you do that?!" Beth whimpered, wiping at her face. "It wasn't your business! He's gone. Now he won't come back." She wiped at her face, and Carol reached out, gently touching the red marks on Beth's wrist where Jimmy had grabbed her.

"Honey, that's going to bruise. You need to let your father look at it." Beth withdrew her hand quickly.

"No! It's fine. It's no big deal. I can handle it." Carol knew that rush of anxiety. She knew that cover up. She knew that dismissal. Beth had been here before, and the thought of it made her feel absolutely sick.

"Oh, sweetheart," Carol murmured.

"It's nothing. It just…it's nothing. We were just arguin', and he got upset. That's all. It's fine."

"Let me guess," Carol murmured, "you made him upset."

"That's right."

"You make him upset a lot, right?" Beth flinched, looking away, and Carol sniffled, raising her eyebrows.

"So he gets mad? Lots of people get mad." Carol bobbed her head slowly in a nod, understanding exactly what this girl was thinking, because she'd been there before, she'd lived it before. She watched as Beth wiped another tear away, and she smiled sadly at the girl.

"You piss him off, and you bring out the bad in him, and he begs you to stop making him so angry, because he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't _like_ to hurt you. But when he's hurting you, you see it in his eyes. You see that this is your life, and this is your man. And then he's soft with you. Gentle. He tells you he loves you, and in that moment, you see that this is how your life will be. Everything will be fine. And it's fine. Until the next time you…piss him off." Beth's eyes were downcast now, and she turned away, unwilling to look at the woman standing before her. "You learn to cover the bruises. It's part of your routine, just like brushing your teeth." Her voice shook, and she could almost feel one hand around her neck and the other clamping over her mouth as he pushed her against the wall and willed her to stop her crying so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

"I love him," Beth sniffled. "He doesn't mean to hurt me. He loves me." Carol took another step forward, and Beth flinched, taking one step backward.

"Sweetheart," Carol murmured, "love isn't supposed to feel like this." She brushed her fingers gently across Beth's forehead, swiping away a loose strand of hair. "And I'm going to tell your father, because you may not know it now, but telling nobody, willing him to change…it's not going to do any bit of good. You'll stay with him, because you think this is your life, and he's the only man that's ever going to want you, and one day, one day, he might go too far. Honey, you're better than that. You deserve better than that. Love hurts, but it isn't supposed to hurt like this." She soothed her fingers over Beth's wrist, and Beth winced. It was swelling, and Carol sighed. "Beth, you need to get that looked at. You could have a bad sprain, or worse, a fracture." Beth whimpered again, shaking her head. "Come on. It's going to be ok. I promise." She started to lead Beth toward the house, but Beth pulled back.

"I can't. He'll…he'll…"

"He's your father. He loves you." Beth shook her head again. Just then, the front porch light flipped on, and the sound of boots thudding against the wooden porch floor had Beth bristling as somebody walked the arc of the wraparound porch.

"I can't. I can't tell him. Please, don't tell him."

"What on Earth is goin' on out here?" Hershel asked, peering out into the yard. Beth's shoulders shook, and she broke down in tears. She bolted, heading straight for the back of the house, avoiding her father and hurrying in through the patio doors. Daryl, Glenn and Maggie stood behind Hershel, all eyes on Carol. She swallowed hard, her thoughts wandering back to that night in the hospital room, panting and crying out in pain as she went through labor, trying to answer the officers' questions, all eyes on her, sympathetic, quizzical, neutral.

She took a deep breath, bringing herself back to the present, taking a step toward the porch.

"Hershel, there's something I think you need to know about Beth."

...

The keys jangled against the doorframe as Daryl unlocked the front door. He flicked the overhead light on, and Carol carried Sophia into the house, immediately taking her back to her room and putting her down in the bassinet. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and she honestly felt like she could sleep for two days and not wake up once.

But she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink if she were to lay down. She had too much on her mind, and all she was going to be able to muster would be a series of tosses and turns. So, she made sure that Sophia was comfortable and sleeping soundly before making her way into the kitchen, where Daryl was already working on making a pot of coffee.

He heard her bare feet against the linoleum and turned.

"You ok?" he asked.

"You keep asking me that," she reminded him. "I keep telling you I'm fine."

"Can't be easy, what ya had to do tonight. 'Specially for you." Carol flinched, and shrugged her shoulders.

"I did what I had to do. Hershel needed to know. Beth wasn't going to tell him, so I had to. Maybe it wasn't my place, but…"

"But you didn't have nobody to tell for you," he guessed. She nodded, sniffling then.

"She's just a baby, Daryl. Sixteen with the whole world in front of her, and she thought…she thought that it was her fault. That she made him do it. God, Daryl, I've been there. Only, I wasn't so young."

"That boy'll be lucky if Hershel don't get the hounds after him 'fore morning comes."

"Daryl, did you see his face? Did you see his face when I told him? He…" She sniffled. "God, it was awful."

"He had to know. Ya did the right thing."

"I know," she murmured. "I know." She looked down then, and he crossed the space between them, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. He traced gentle circles along her collarbones, and she finally inched her head up, meeting his gaze.

"I remember bein' real little, beggin' my mama to leave my daddy. He'd hit her. He'd hit me'n Merle. And he'd tell us it was for our own good, 'cause we was bad, 'cause we deserved it. And she'd let him, 'cause he'd go and get her her next fix. She'd take whatever he gave her. Broke her jaw once. But I'd still beg her. Beg her to leave him and take us somewhere new and start over." Daryl swallowed hard. "I'll never forget her kneelin' down, lookin' me straight in the eye—and I weren't no more'n five or six-and sayin' 'there ain't no place to go. He's your daddy. You don't pick your family. You just gotta live with 'em.'" He shook his head.

"I thank God every day I got away from Ed before Sophia was born. Still, he found me. He told me I was his, that a divorce didn't mean anything. He said I'm his, and he tried to show me that." She placed her hand over her stomach, feeling a twinge in her ribs as she remembered him kicking her so hard she couldn't breathe.

"He ain't never gonna hurt you again," Daryl swore, bringing one hand up to cup her face. She leaned into his touch, placing her hand over his.

"You say that," she whispers, "but every night, I dream. Sometimes they're happy dreams. And he's gone. Other times, he's here. He's found me. He takes Sophia or worse." She blinked back the tears.

"We got the law on our side. He comes around, you call in that restrainin' order."

"Ed doesn't care about things like that." She shook her head. A tear slipped down her cheek, and Daryl gently brushed it away.

"Wish there was anything I could do to take back the last five years, change things for ya."

"What happened, happened. There's no changing it. And I got a beautiful daughter out of all of that pain. Daryl, I wouldn't give her up for anything. But I'm not looking back anymore. I can't. I just need to keep moving on. And you need to do that, too, because I want…"

"What?" he murmured. She smiled sadly at him, tracing her fingertips down his jaw.

"I want this. I want us. How we were before." She swallowed the lump in her throat, watching as his gaze faltered, as he chewed his lower lip and prayed for words. "I want to be happy, and the only time in my life I was ever happy was when I was with you."

"Me too," he admitted, resting his forehead against hers.

"Do you want that? Do you…want me?"

"Never stopped wantin' you," he said quietly, gaze on her lips now. "Ain't never stopped thinkin' about you." He watched as the tears filled her eyes, and her lip trembled, and a smile spread across her face. And then her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and she was resting her head against his chest. He put his hand on her back, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

"Ok," she whispered after a moment, pulling back and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "No more looking back. No more blaming yourself, because I know you do. I don't want to see pity in your eyes. I just want to see…you. You're my best friend, Daryl." She stood on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"You're mine," he responded in kind. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"So don't hurt me," she replied with a knowing smile, brushing his hair up out of his eyes. "And don't go making stupid decisions because you think it's best for me, ok?" Daryl snorted then, and he couldn't help but smile when she smiled.

"Can't make no promises there."

"Jus…talk to me first. Don't go thinking you're not good enough for me, that I deserve better, because I know what I want, and there's nothing better." Daryl swallowed then, and he leaned in, kissing her softly, never wanting to let go of her. This felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. When he pulled back, she blinked sleepily up at him. And then she sighed, feeling the weight of the day resting wearily on her shoulders. "We should get some sleep."

"So much for the coffee."

"Well, it's not wasted," she smirked. "You poured the water in and forgot the grounds."

"Shit," he muttered, running his hand over his face. "Guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"It's ok. Let's go get some sleep, ok?" She turned off the coffee pot and took his hand in hers. When they made it to the hallway, Daryl started to let go of her hand and head for his room. "Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you stay with me? Tonight? I really don't…I don't want to be alone tonight." Daryl swallowed back the coiling anxiety and nodded.

"I can do that," he promised. She smiled sleepily at him, led him into her room, and they both crawled into the bed, curling up together, just holding one another, and before long, they were both fast asleep, and it was the best night's sleep either of them had had in far too long.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Carol woke in the morning feeling more rested than usual, and it probably had something to do with the fact that she'd slept entangled with Daryl all night. She smiled a little against his shoulder, feeling his chest rising and falling under her hand. She felt a chill and the flesh of her thigh prickle at the cool gush of an early morning breeze through the window. She realized that at some point in the night, her sundress had ridden up, exposing her underwear, and she bit her lip, slowly trying to adjust it and not wake him up. He looked so peaceful, and she knew from experience that she could be perfectly content with watching him sleep for hours.

But she had more pressing matters to attend to, as she felt the familiar sting in her bladder. She groaned softly and untangled herself from him, watching him shift but not wake, turning onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. She bit her lip to keep from giggling and made her way over to the bassinet to check on Sophia, who was sucking on her fingers and wide awake.

"Did you let mama sleep this morning?" she cooed down at her baby. "Give me two minutes, and I'll get you a bottle, ok?" Sophia blinked and grunted, and Carol hurried down the hall to take care of business. When she returned, Sophia had fallen back to sleep, and Carol smiled, glancing over at the bed, where Daryl was snoring softly where he slept. She thought about starting breakfast, but today was going to be a lazy day. She could feel it. And all she wanted to do was curl back up in bed with him. Just being close to him was enough for now. Until she was ready, until they were ready, it was enough.

She crawled back into the bed, slipping under the soft, white, cotton sheet. She grinned as a curtain of hair that had fallen into his face blew back and forth with his breaths when he turned his face out of the pillow. She bit her lip, reaching over to push the hair out of his face.

She sighed softly, curling up against him, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes, through her clothes and into her skin. It was a warm morning, but she didn't mind the heat. Her hand moved up his arm slowly, her fingertips slipping into the sleeve of his shirt, caressing his shoulder. She heard him moan softly, and his eyelids flinched but didn't open. This had always been her favorite part of their mornings together. She'd always loved finding new ways to wake him up. They weren't quite ready for _some_ of those more interesting ways to wake up, but one day, they'd be in that place again, and for now, she would settle for these innocent little touches. Sparks.

It was only when Carol's fingertips gently scraped down his neck that his lips began to turn up in a grin. He cracked open one sleepy eye to see her smiling at him, smiling in that way he hadn't seen for so damned long. His hands moved instinctively toward her, and with one arm, he pulled her flush against him. She made a soft humming noise in the back of her throat as he buried his face against her neck, inhaling the scent of her, pressing soft kisses to her collarbone as she played with his hair, gently massaging his scalp with her feather-light touches.

His hands moved up her back, one hand trailing over the curve of her spine, the other resting between her shoulder blades, pulling her closer. Her hands moved up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands moved to her hips, tugging her up as he rolled onto his back. She gasped softly, feeling his hand moving down to give her ass a little squeeze.

"Careful," she whispered, feeling a tender ache between her legs that reminded her that this wasn't going too far yet. "I can't. Not…not yet."

"I know," he murmured, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. "Don't mean we can't do…this, right?" He put a little pressure on the back of her neck, bringing her mouth down on his. He kissed her long and deep, moaning softly as Carol's hand curled against his chest. She finally pulled back, crimson tinting her cheeks. "And this?" His hand skirted over the strap of her sundress, moving down, curving along her ribs, his thumb barely grazing over her nipple through the fabric.

"Right," she panted, kissing his neck, tasting the salt of his skin where his Adam's apple bobbed appreciatively when he swallowed. "Just…slowly." She gasped softly against his mouth when he tilted her face toward his and pressed his lips against hers, gently stroking his hand over her hip. She smiled against his kiss, running her hand under and up his shirt, moving over the hardness of his abs and up over his chest, the warmth of his skin heating her cool palms.

"I missed this. Missed you." Daryl murmured, brushing one hand over the side of her breast. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation of his hand sliding over the side of her sensitive breast, and his hand shot away like he'd been shocked. "You ok?"

"Mmm," she hummed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, as his hands snaked around her waist and flipped her over onto her back. She giggled when he rolled halfway onto her, his chest pressed against hers, one leg tangled with hers as he ran his fingers over her neck and into her hair. Carol's gaze faltered. She remembered when he'd run his fingers through her long locks, sometimes how he'd give it a gentle tug when he kissed her. "Not much to hold onto anymore. Nothing to grab." Her gaze shifted back up toward his, and she saw him swallow the lump in his throat as the understanding hit him.

"I'd never hurt you like that. You know that, right?"

"I know," she murmured.

"Always scared me. Had folks tellin' me I was gonna turn out just like my old man."

"You could never be like him," Carol whispered. "You don't have it in you. You're a _good_ man, Daryl Dixon, and I know you could never…" She stroked his hair, threading her fingers through it. She smiled a little. "Mine's a little shorter, yours is a little longer." Daryl snorted at that, peppering kisses along her jaw. "Some things have changed." Her hand moved down his stomach, her gaze following. She could feel his very prominent erection pressing against her hip through his pants. "Some things haven't." She took a shuddering breath, and Daryl took that as his cue to move off of her.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said with a grin. "It's flattering. And it's not like I don't want to." She blushed a little, and he nodded in understanding. Oh, she wanted to. He wanted to. But it was too much, too soon, coupled with the fact that Carol wasn't completely healed since Sophia's birth. The books all tended to advise about six weeks after delivery for sex, but Carol felt that might even be too soon.

"You wanna do something today?"

"Like what?" she asked softly.

"Dunno. Take a ride out in the country like we used to? Take Sophia, too?"

"That sounds nice," she said with a smile. "Could we…"

"What?"

"You remember that creek we used to fish at?"

"Yeah, I remember. You wanna go?" She smiled brightly, nodding her head.

"Yeah. That sounds nice. I want to call Hershel first. Check on Beth."

"Alright," he said with a nod. "You showerin' first, or…?"

"You can. Save me some hot water?" He agreed with a kiss before pulling himself out of bed. He checked on Sophia before leaving the room, and Carol stretched out against the mattress, unable to hold back the smile that lit up her face. Yes, she was finally beginning to feel like she was truly home.

...

When Daryl came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, Carol had to swallow hard to keep her mouth from watering. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Sophia in her arms, feeding her her morning bottle.

"You call Hershel?"

"No answer," Carol muttered. "I'm worried about Beth."

"She's gonna be alright, thanks to you," Daryl replied, moving across the kitchen. "You gonna get a shower?"

"You going to put any clothes on?" she teased. "Not that I mind, but..." She raised an eyebrow. "That towel might be a little breezy out there on those country roads." Daryl smirked at her, leaning down to kiss her softly before he brushed a hand gently over Sophia's head.

"Mornin', Soph," he murmured. "Swear she looks bigger since yesterday."

"She's a good eater," Carol agreed with a nod. "I swear she's changed so much in a whole month. Hard to believe she's the same baby, most days."

"Looks like you."

"You think?"

"Yeah. She's got your eyes. Your nose, too. Pretty sure that loud mouth comes from you, too."

"You ass," Carol snorted. Daryl chuckled, just as she moved to nudge his leg with her bare foot.

"If I remember right, ain't you the one stood up in the middle of Homecoming and led the senior girls in that dumbass song and dance?"

"It wasn't a song and dance," Carol scoffed. "It was a cheer, and _we_ were better than the whole cheerleading squad, thank you very much!"

"Yeah, but you was the loudmouth of the group." Carol laughed then. She had been loud. She'd been loud and carefree and uninhibited, very much the opposite of Daryl. Over the last few years, she'd grown more reserved, quiet, careful, like a mouse afraid of her own shadow, because that shadow happened to loom over her in the shape of her asshole husband.

"Well, I hope she's stronger than me," Carol said with a little sigh, smiling down at her baby.

"You serious?" Daryl asked quietly, bringing his hand down to her shoulder. "You're probably the strongest person I know. Takes a lot to get out like you did. Takes a lot to start over new."

"If I'm strong, it's because of her," Carol admitted, kissing Sophia's forehead. "If she hadn't come along, I…I would probably still be with him. I could live with it until I died from it. But Sophia? I'd never want my child to suffer like that. I hope she'll be stronger than I was. I hope she finds someone who loves her like…" _Like I love you._ "I'd give anything in this world to keep her from feeling the way Ed made me feel."

"She's lucky," Daryl said with a little chuckle. "She's got herself a mama who'd walk through fire to keep her safe. I'd say you already did the best thing for her by comin' here, by gettin' away from him. And I sure as hell ain't gonna let nothin' happen to either one of ya. I promise ya that, 'cause as much as you'd do to protect her? I'd do the same to protect you." Carol reached out, stroking his cheek, and she blinked back the tears.

"Thank you," she whispered, sniffling and looking back down at her beautiful baby daughter. _Thank you for loving me. For loving her. I feel it. I hope you can, too._ She sniffled, standing up and placing the baby's empty bottle down on the table. "I should get cleaned up." She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him softly on the lips before heading off to get ready to spend a whole day with the two loves of her life.

...

 _"Why do you love me?" she asked, staring up into the night sky as the stars twinkled above them, as they lay in the back of Daryl's pickup, much like they did most Friday nights when they didn't have a damned thing to do the next day except for sleep and be with each other._

 _"You know why," he muttered, taking a drag of his cigarette, letting the burn fill his lungs before exhaling the cloudy puff, watching it swirl every which way before disappearing, the black sky edging back through until the next puff came._

 _"I know why, but I like to hear it," she murmured, closing her eyes as his hand found hers._

 _"'Cause you're the best friend I ever had," he murmured, crimson rising in his cheeks. He'd never been able to express his feelings without feeling an edge of embarrassment, but that was because he'd been raised being told he was good for nothing, told he was worthless and didn't deserve love. It was still hard for him to believe that she could look at him the way she did, that she could smile at him instead of turn and walk away when she saw him. She fucking loved him, and it was a feeling as foreign to him as a hug or a pat on the back."You're the first person who ever looked at me like I was worth somethin', like I wasn't some dumb, redneck asshole."_

 _"Because you are worth something. Because you aren't a dumb, redneck asshole" Carol reminded him. "You have no idea how much I love you. And sometimes I think it shocks you that I love you. It breaks my heart."_

 _"What do you mean?" he asked, turning his face toward hers._

 _"You don't see it," she whispered. "I tell you I love you, and you look at me like it's the first time you've ever heard it. Every time. Like you're surprised. I don't think you'll ever understand how much I love you. And I'll never stop." She turned toward him, pressing her lips against his forehead, as his hand moved up her back and into her soft, auburn hair. "Everybody should have one person in this life that tells them every day how important they are. How much they're loved. I promise, until the day I die, you'll never go a day without knowing how much I love you."_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

She was laughing, happy as they left the house, hand-in-hand. He held the baby's car seat in one hand and laced his fingers with Carol's with the other. He worked carefully to strap in the baby's seat and even moved to open Carol's car door like a true goddamned gentleman.

He moved then, catching her hips in his hands, pulling her close, pressing her gently against the side of the car, his hands moving over her like she was his, like he was the only man in the world that could touch her like that and make her smile.

She wrapped an arm around his neck, her fingers gently scratching at the skin there, and he whispered something into her ear, something that made her blush, something that made her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle, and she pressed her hands against his chest, leaning into him, kissing him, claiming him the way he'd claimed her, as if she knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to show it anymore.

This woman, this broken shell of a woman was no more. No, she was different. She wasn't crying. She always cried. She always begged and huddled in the corner. She always tried to run, tried to hide the scratches and the bruises, tried to make excuses for the people who cared enough to ask. Fuck, that girl was almost gone. Now, she wore low-cut sundresses that accented her tits, and she walked around like she'd been told she was worth something.

Knuckles whitened against the steering wheel of the car parked a few houses down. She didn't notice it. _He_ didn't notice it. The man with his hands all over her tits and ass. No, he wouldn't would he? She'd hypnotized him like the whore she was, using what good was left of her body to get a little attention from someone. Someone else. And _he_ carried that baby like he was her own daddy, like she didn't already have a daddy she belonged to. A family.

He had half a mind to march across that street and take back what was rightfully his. What _belonged_ to him, because a piece of paper had no fucking authority. She was his. That baby was his. And sneaking off to play house with another man wouldn't change that. No, they'd always be his, and sooner or later, he'd make her see that. Not yet, but someday. For now, she could play happy family with another man. She could pretend to be his, because it wouldn't change a thing. She already belonged to someone else.

She could pretend for a little while longer, but sooner or later, she'd have to wake up and come home. Sooner or later, she'd be reminded that nothing good in this world comes to worthless, stupid animals who don't mind when they're told.

As the car with the happy family drove away, he sat and watched their pretty little house grow dark as the clouds passed in front of the sun. He watched as the house, nestled in a quiet little neighborhood in a quiet little town held all the dirty little secrets she'd undoubtedly told the new man of hers. Oh, she'd pay for it, alright. But not yet. Soon.

...

"It too cold out here for her?" Daryl asked, eyeing the baby's car seat that sat on the picnic blanket close by. They hadn't counted on the temperature dropping as a storm slowly crept in from the horizon.

"She's fine," Carol said with a smile, glancing over at her sleeping daughter.

"She's awful quiet. Ain't fussin'."

"Well, what has she got to fuss about? She's dry, she's full, she's warm, and she can hear our voices. She's perfectly content. She's quiet, because she's happy." Carol's fingers brushed against his on the blanket, and he curled his fingers around hers. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Carol sighed softly, closing her eyes as she felt the breeze flutter against her warm skin, cooling her off. Daryl must have been eyeing her, because the moment her shoulders slumped a little, he squeezed her hand.

"What's on your mind?"

"Hmm?"

"You been kinda quiet."

"I have?" Daryl nodded. "I don't know. Maybe I'm a little worried about how good things have been. I'm not used to good. I'm not even used to a little ok. I'm used locking my deadbolt at night, putting the chain on my door, because I'm terrified my ex-husband will come knocking in the middle of the night."

"You ain't gotta worry about that."

"What if I do?" Carol asked softly. "Daryl, I've tried to convince myself that everything's going to be better from here on out, but I'm not naïve enough to think that he won't ever come looking for me. For Sophia. She's his blood."

"Don't make him a father," Daryl replied. "He ain't gonna hurt either of you. He tries, I'll kill him."

"Don't say that," Carol bit back quickly. "Don't ever say that, Daryl."

"The man beat you. Coulda killed you."

"Just…I couldn't take it if something happened to you because of him. He's already done enough damage. If he hurt you, too…I can't, Daryl." She took a shaky breath. "Sometimes I want to just take off. Start over someplace new. Some place he'd never coming looking for me. Sometimes, I just want to." She looked away for a moment, and when her gaze met his again, she saw a bit of worry, a bit of reluctance.

"You ain't gonna disappear on me are ya?"

"Of course not," she murmured. "I wouldn't. I just…I think about it sometimes. I wouldn't leave you. You're the only friend I have in this whole, crazy world."

"You wanna run away, just say the world. We could leave this damned place in the dust."

"We couldn't do that," Carol reminded him with a little grin. "But it's a nice thought. I love that you would do that for me. But I don't want you to give up anything."

"I'd give up any damned thing for you," Daryl admitted. "I love you." Carol's breath caught in the back of her throat for a moment, and she swallowed hard. And she could tell by the way his brows raised and the way his face froze with his lips parted slightly, it had slipped out unintentionally.

"Daryl…"

"You don't gotta say it. I shouldn't have…I fucked up. M'sorry."

"Don't apologize if it's true." Her eyes searched his; she leaned forward a little.

"It's true," he promised. He looked away for a moment, but it might as well have been hours. And when his gaze met hers again, he hesitated, and then he asked, "what about you?"

"There's only three men in this whole world I've ever said 'I love you' too. My daddy, you and Ed. And with Ed, I never really felt it. Never meant it. With you? It was the most natural thing. Like breathing. Loving you was easy."

"Now?"

"Now it's different. And it's like starting on the tenth date, you know? It's different, but I still feel it. I still do. I do love you." She felt her face grow hot from the admission, and he leaned in, bridging the gap to kiss her. And she let him, felt him sink against her, felt his hands against her shoulders, felt his warm tongue against her lips, begging entrance. And then she pulled back.

"How's it different?" he asked, finally, as they took a few moments to catch their breaths and collect their thoughts.

"It just…it is. Back then? We were two different people. Now? God, I'm not even a shell of the person I used to be. I just…"

"You're still you. You just ain't been allowed to be you for so long. You just gotta let yourself be you." Carol smiled a little at that.

"I'm still me. But everything I do, every choice I make for the rest of my life will be tainted with the memory of Ed. The abuse wasn't just physical, Daryl. I have scars inside, too." She flinched at her own words.

"We all got scars. Makes us who we are. We come out stronger 'cause of 'em." He squeezed her hand. "I already had them kinda scars when ya met me, but it didn't scare you away. Ain't nothin' you carry 'round with you could turn me away." They were both silent then, both reeling on the inside from the entire conversation, both nervous about what it meant, where this was going. She'd never felt happier than when she was with him, and he'd never felt more loved, and while Carol thought maybe she'd been far too bold, far too presumptuous to hope that she could just come back and things could be the way they were, the way he was looking at her now told her she hadn't been entirely too off base.

Ed had broken her. He'd taken pieces of her and twisted them into pieces she despised about herself now. No longer was she bold and carefree, no longer did she try to initiate anything more than a few kisses, no longer did she feel brave enough to speak her needs, her wants, her desires. But with Daryl, she felt a little more like her old self, a little more like the person she used to be, the person she liked to be. It was a start. A small start, but it was something.

Thunder rumbled again, this time closer, and the dark clouds were beginning to roll in.

"We should go," Daryl murmured, quickly standing and grabbing the baby's car seat.

"You get her in the car, and I'll clean up here," Carol offered, moving to gather everything up from their little picnic. Daryl got the car seat fastened into the back of the car, while Carol tossed everything in the trunk. Just as she was moving to duck into the passenger's seat before the rain could start, she felt pressure on her elbow, and she turned to face Daryl. He was pressing in close, his eyes on hers, his lips parted slightly. "What?" A smile spread over her face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers softly, putting just a bit of pressure on the back of her neck with his fingertips. She sighed then, opening up to him as the rain began to sprinkle down on them.

She felt the loss the moment he backed away, but he gently ran his fingers through her short, damp hair as the rain began to pick up a bit, and their hair and skin became slick. He tilted her chin up, encouraging her to keep her eyes fixed on his.

"You ain't broken. You're healin', and that's ok. Takes a while, and you'll never forget what he did to you, but I swear to God, you ain't ever gonna have to know that life again." He pressed his forehead against hers, fighting for the words as her hands moved to cling to his forearms.

"I'm afraid," she admitted, taking in a shuddering breath. "You don't know the kinds of things he said. The kinds of things he did. I'm ashamed I ever let him…"

"Hey," he murmured, "that wasn't you. That was some other girl. I know men like that. My daddy was like that. Makes you believe you ain't nothin', and you start to feel it. Takes a long time to come back from that. But I'm willin' to wait if that's what it takes. Don't wanna mess up again. Don't wanna let you go, 'cause that was the biggest damned mistake I ever made."

Carol sighed softly, and she pulled her arms around his shoulders, resting her head against his chest.

"We're getting all wet," she whispered.

"I don't mind." His voice was strong, deep, and the rumble of it in his chest made her smile. She turned her face up to his and gave him a gentle kiss on the neck , then the jaw, and then her lips were on his again.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"What for?"

"Just for this," she murmured. He'd never know exactly how special he'd made her feel in those moments, because she'd never be able to put it into words, but as she blinked up at him, taking deep, steadying breaths, she began to feel a little like that old life with Ed was nothing but a very bad dream, one that she was finally waking up from. She could be happy. It would take time, but she'd get there. They could be happy again, picking up the pieces of their fractured lives.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I'm not ready for this," Carol murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath as she stood in front of the mirror in her room. She eyed herself in the mirror, as Daryl came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into the reflection of her eyes in the mirror.

"You are," he promised. "You just gotta take a deep breath."

"Deep breath," she said with a nod, taking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment and then letting it go. "Ok, I can do this. I'm just not sure I can leave her." Sophia kicked her feet as she lay in the bouncy seat on the floor by the closet door.

"Soph's gonna be fine," Daryl promised. "Maggie's gonna look after her."

"But she has her hands full with Henry, and I'm just not sure…"

"Hey," Daryl soothed her, "she's gonna be fine. You trust Maggie?"

"I do. I just…Sophia's my baby, Daryl, and I'm always going to worry." Daryl turned her in his arms, chucking her chin gently to guide her gaze to meet his.

"Soph will take a bottle 'bout eight thirty, and then she'll be out 'til noon. Beth gets off school at 2:30, and she goes straight to Maggie and Glenn's. Sophia'll have plenty of people to look out for her. Don't you worry now." Carol sighed, nodding her head.

About three weeks ago, Beth had called and asked to meet Carol, who had met her at a little diner. They'd had a nice, long talk, and Beth had thanked Carol for stepping in to help when Jimmy had gotten rough with her. She'd apologized for the way she'd acted, and the two of them had talked for hours, exchanging stories about their own struggles with abuse. Since then, Carol and Daryl were often invited at least twice a week for dinner at the Greene farm, and the families had developed quite a close bond, something Carol was thankful for. Sophia never failed to have somebody who wanted to hug her and cuddle her, and it was fun to see her and Henry together, as they were both beginning to become more alert and even recognize one another.

Today was the first day of Carol's job. She hadn't been too thrilled with the way the interview had gone, but apparently they'd liked her well enough, because within an hour of her getting home from it, they'd called and offered her the job. Now was as good a time as any. Sophia was eight weeks old, strong and healthy. She was a happy baby who seemed comfortable enough to be away from Carol for a while, as they'd painfully experimented with a few days prior. Those four hours that Daryl had taken Carol out to dinner and a movie to see how Sophia did with Maggie and Glenn had been the longest four hours of Carol's life, but Sophia had done great and there had been no problems whatsoever.

"Alright," Carol murmured, moving to take Sophia out of the bouncy seat, "let's go get you ready, sweet girl." She kissed the baby's forehead, and Sophia smiled, resting her head against her mother's chest as she was carried to the living room.

Daryl followed them, and he sat down at the table, watching as Carol got Sophia buckled into her car seat. She started packing things into the diaper bag, making sure to pack the notepad with the pediatrician's number on it.

It wasn't until she was zipping the bag up that she realized that Daryl was staring at her from his spot on the couch.

"What?" she asked, a smile turning up at the corner of her mouth.

"Nothin'," he muttered, clearing his throat.

"That's a whole lot of nothin' in those baby blues of yours," Carol replied with a smirk. "What's on your mind?" Daryl glanced at the clock. They still had about ten minutes before they had to head out the door.

"C'mere." She smirked a little, putting the diaper bag down on the floor and moving toward the couch. Before she had the chance to even flinch, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down toward him. She squealed, falling into his lap, straddling his hips with her knees.

"Daryl Dixon!" she laughed, shoving his shoulders against the back of the couch. "You ass." His hand moved up her back and to her neck, bringing her down to him for a crushing kiss, his breath hot against her mouth as she opened up against him.

The past month had been filled with almosts. Almost going too far. Almost crossing that line. They slept, wrapped up with one another every night. They would kiss until they were breathless, and there was certainly a bit of over the clothes action going on, but Daryl had been patient, not letting things go any further than Carol had been ready for. He'd look to her to gauge her reactions, and when he'd see her starting to tense, he'd slow things down, bring them back to a more comfortable level, and then they would cuddle the rest of the night.

It was nice. It had been nice. Both for both of them, it was quickly becoming more urgent. She'd feel his arousal through the confines of his jeans, and she'd grind against it, unable to ease the ache between her legs, the desire for him that was so overwhelmingly powerful it was almost scary.

And now, as she straddled his lap on the couch, she could feel his desire pressing firmly against his jeans, and she wiggled her hips slightly, the friction making the both of them gasp against each other's mouths.

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Your fault," she muttered. "No fair doing this to me before work." She sighed heavily, resting her forehead against his, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on. He moved then, pressing soft kisses down her neck from her ear to her shoulder, and she felt a tingle slowly tickling up her spine. She sighed, kissing him gently and peeking over her shoulder to see Sophia sleeping soundly in the car seat. "We should go. Don't want to be late." Daryl nodded, moving his hand in slow circles against her lower back. "Maybe tonight…we could…" Her voice faltered, tapering off, and Daryl broke the silence with a kiss. When he pulled back, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hands.

"If you ain't ready, you say so."

"I feel ready," she murmured, moving her hands down his chest, feeling the way his heart thundered against her fingertips. "Maybe we just need to…you know, rip off the bandage. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before. Not like we haven't had sex before."

"Yeah, but that was before."

"Well, we can't have gotten any worse at it in the last five years," Carol chuckled, getting a snort out of Daryl. "After Sophia goes to bed, we can crack open a bottle of wine, settle in for the night and…see where things take us." Her lips ghosted over his for a moment, and he pulled back, quirking an eyebrow up.

"So, we're what? Schedulin' sex?"

"No!" she laughed. "We'll just…see what happens. If we don't have sex, that's ok. If we do…that's ok, too." Daryl gripped her hips in that moment.

"C'mon. Let's go. Now." He was only half-serious, and she squealed when his hand rounded on her ass cheek.

"You're going to get me fired on the first day," she laughed, wriggling out of his arms and off of his lap, straightening her clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hands.

"Well, so long as we're schedulin' sex, you need me to pick up anything after work?"

"Uh," Carol blushed, "condoms would be nice. I don't suppose you have any in the house."

"You kiddin' me?" he snorted. "I'll pick some up."

"Good," she said with a shy grin. "We'd better go, before Maggie sends out search and rescue looking for us." Daryl chuckled at that, pulling himself up off the couch. Carol could tell by the pained expression on his face that he was going to need a minute to cool off. She smiled sheepishly at him but shrugged. "You have no one to blame but yourself for pulling me in your lap like that, Daryl Dixon." She moved over and picked up Sophia's car seat and draped the diaper bag over her shoulder. "You ok?"

"Yep. Good," he muttered.

"Alright," she said with a little grin. "I'll get her in the car. You…take a minute if you need it." He nodded his head in agreement, as Carol hurried out to the car with the baby, a new bundle of nerves coiling with her already worked up anxieties about her first day on the job. She was having sex. With Daryl. Tonight. She felt ready, but still, the idea had her heart racing and a whole new set of worries settling in.

As she got Sophia strapped into the car, she decided the best thing to do would be to try not to think about it. It would only serve to make things more tense and awkward than they were already, undoubtedly, going to be. No, she couldn't let it get to her. This was a good thing. It was Daryl, and she knew from experience that sex with Daryl was good. Better than good. And maybe this time around, it would be even better, because they had worked their way back to one another, and if anybody in the world deserved one good night, it was them.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Work went by torturously slowly, but there was so much to learn that Carol was somewhat thankful for that. When she wasn't busy, she was thinking forward to tonight, where she was undoubtedly going to be pushing herself out of her comfort zone and pushing past a few boundaries she hadn't pushed past in a long, long time.

Daryl picked her up after work, and she knew by the sight of the brown paper bag on the back seat that he'd been by the drugstore. It sent bolt of desire and anticipation through her, making her tremble against the passenger's seat. He was trying to keep her mind off of it, clearly, asking all kinds of questions about her first day at work, and as soon as they reached Maggie's to get Sophia, Carol was relaxed and happy, excited about starting this new job and making a living.

They picked up something for supper and took it home, and Daryl assured Carol he'd get Sophia her bottle and put her down for bed, while she got the table set and the food dished out from the takeout containers.

Sophia began to fuss, and Carol sighed softly, leaving the kitchen and heading down the hall to find Daryl gently rocking her back and forth.

"You not hungry, Soph?" he asked. "You usually eat like a horse." He looked up as Carol came in the room. "You think she's comin' down with somethin'? She ain't eatin'."

"She might have a little gas," Carol offered. "Sometimes if you give her a few pats on the back and get her to burp, she'll eat a little more." Daryl nodded, holding the baby against his chest and patting her until the loudest burp he'd ever heard out of a baby sounded. Carol placed her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle.

"Atta girl," Daryl snorted. "Sound just like your mama."

"Stop," Carol laughed, eyes twinkling as she watched Daryl put the bottle back up to Sophia's lips. She suckled hungrily, and he rocked her close. Carol sighed softly, relaxing a little as she watched the two of them together. She was thankful that Sophia had somebody like Daryl in her life. He'd taken to that baby better than she'd ever expected, and to think on it for too long could bring her to tears, because it was heartbreaking to think that Ed could have killed Sophia the night she was born. Carol knew that she could have died that night, too, but someone somewhere had been looking out for them.

She didn't feel broken anymore. She felt happy. She felt at peace. It was going to take a long time to fully heal from the years of abuse she'd taken from Ed, but she knew she could. She could fight the demons from her past, she could remember what happy was supposed to feel like.

Sophia finished her bottle like a champ, and when she was finished, Daryl promptly burped her again and when she seemed content, he placed her down in the bassinet. She kicked her legs for a few moments before yawning and blinking sleepily at them.

"Food's getting cold," Carol murmured, leaning over the bassinet to kiss Sophia's forehead.

"You go on and get started. I'll stay with her 'til she falls asleep," he offered.

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," he replied. "Go on." He reached for her hand, giving it a little squeeze before letting go of her and watching her walk out of the room.

...

Carol had poured two glasses of red wine to go along with their meals, and it wasn't long before Daryl was joining her. They talked about little to nothing, eating in almost completely silence, stealing gazes at one another with each sip of wine.

Carol could feel the burn in her cheeks when he caught her watching him. Her heart felt lighter than air, and her stomach was coiled into knots. It was a good feeling, a familiar feeling, but it was one that she hadn't felt in so long. In the last years of her marriage to Ed, sex had become something to dread, something to fear, because sometimes she wasn't responsive enough, and those sexual acts would end in beatings that made her wish she was dead.

When they were through, Carol got up to start clearing the dishes. Daryl watched her as she worked, moving from the table to the sink a few times with dirty dishes and the wine glasses. She stayed at the sink then, scrubbing and rinsing the plates, and it wasn't long before she could feel his hand on her lower back, feel his arms coming around her.

"You really need to do that right now?" he asked, pressing into her from behind, his hands gentle against her arms as he pulled her hands out of the water. She sighed softly, leaning back against his chest as his mouth brushed over her neck. She shivered, closing her eyes and willing herself to relax. _It's Daryl. He's good. He loves you. You know that._

She reached for the dishtowel, wiping off her sudsy hands before turning in his arms. Her eyes were wide, a little frightened as she looked up at him. He saw it, and he brought his hand to her cheek.

"We don't gotta do this if you ain't ready."

"I know," she said with a nervous smile. She sighed softly before bringing her hands up to rest against his neck. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, letting her take a moment. Finally, she stood on her tiptoes and brought up her lips up against his, kissing him softly, relishing the feel of his hands moving down her back and over her hips, pulling her in closer, keeping her safe.

"I love you," he murmured. "You know that, right? Don't ever wanna hurt you. So you tell me if you need to stop."

"I will," she promised, kissing him again. "Just…go slow." He nodded then, reaching behind her, slipping his hands up the back of her shirt, fingers skimming over her bare flesh, getting a soft sigh out of her. His hands guided her arms, and they worked together, slipping her out of the garment. He saw her blush, as if she were exposing herself to him for the first time. Her body had changed, but so had his, and he thought then that he'd never seen her so beautiful.

He pulled her close, holding her against his chest, kissing her softly as his hand skimmed between them, ghosting over her stomach. She pulled back a little.

"Hey," he murmured as she looked away, as if she were supposed to be ashamed. "Look at me." She did as he asked. "You're beautiful." Her lip trembled then, and her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head, and he gently chucked her chin, urging her to look into his eyes. "You're perfect." She sniffled, closing her eyes to will back the tears. "C'mon." He pulled back, taking her by the hand. Despite wearing a bra, she covered her breasts with her free arm, as if shielding herself from judgment, from fear.

He led her down the hall to his room, easing the door open with his foot and letting her in first.

"This better?" he asked, closing the door, shutting them inside the confines of the four walls. She nodded, shivering before him. "I remember everything. Never stopped thinkin' about it. Still can't stop thinkin' about it."

"Daryl," she murmured, looking down, feeling self-conscious about the soft lines on her stomach, the way she still carried a little weight from the baby, the way her body ached in ways she hadn't realized an hour ago.

"Don't," he murmured. "Don't let him in. Don't let him do this to you." He could see it. See the way she was hearing Ed's voice telling her she was fat, ugly, how no man would ever want to touch her. She looked down then, easing her hands over his shoulders, steadying herself, taking a few deep breaths before turning her gaze up to his again. Her eyes said it all. _Be careful. Just love me. Don't break me._ His lips brushed over hers then, and she sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as he pulled her so close she could feel his heart beating against her chest. "Carol." She pulled back, looking up at him.

"You trust me?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"You love me." It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "I love you, too." Carol smiled at that, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to pull herself closer as they kissed. His hands moved over her back, gently unclasping her bra, bringing his hands up her shoulders to pull the straps down. She toed her shoes off as they walked backward toward the bed, and slowly, they began to undress one another, taking their time, exploring one another as if it was the first time. In many ways, it felt like the first time.

Daryl unceremoniously reached for the brown paper bag on the nightstand, fishing out a condom from the box. He placed it aside for later, making certain she was fully ready before they went there. She trembled as he explored her, kissing down the valley of her breasts, lips ghosting over her stomach as he placed soft kisses there. Nose prodding at the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs as he used his fingers and mouth on her, bringing her to an orgasm in less than a minute. She'd shuddered under him, breathless as he loved her, and she'd reached for him after, wanting to touch him, wanting to explore, and he'd let her, lying on his back as she straddled his hips with her knees, kissing and touching him like they'd never done this before.

When he finally eased her back against the mattress, he kept his eyes on her as he rolled on the condom, kept his eyes on her as he crawled over her, placing kisses along her collarbones and over her neck. His mouth pressed softly against hers as he eased into her, hearing her gasp softly at the sensation. When he began to pull back, she tightened her arms around his shoulders, simply whispering "please" as she gave him a little nod, urging him on.

He was gentle and slow, relishing the sensation of being with her again, being inside of her, hearing her call his name, seeing the flush of red on her cheeks just as she arched back. He remembered. It was like coming up for air. And when she cried out against his neck, he held her, waiting for that moment when her mouth would press against his neck, when she'd begin to kiss him again, a silent question to which he would respond by rolling onto his back with her above him, and she would take her time, bringing him over the edge as she stared down into his eyes.

And when it was over, they lay entwined together between the sheets, her arm draped across his stomach, her face buried against his shoulder, her eyes twinkling with tears that he soon soothed away with a brush of his thumb under her eyes.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, guiding her gaze to his, and his lips brushed over hers, stubble stinging her chin, but she didn't care.

"You're safe," he promised. And she nodded, sighing against his chest as she closed her eyes and began to drift off. She was safe. She could feel it. She remembered. This was the safest she would ever be.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

It was late when the doorbell rang. Well, not too late, as the sun had not yet sunk below the horizon, but it certainly pulled Carol and Daryl out of a deep slumber.

"Maybe they'll go away," he grumbled, kissing her shoulder. She chuckled softly, rubbing her tired eyes and nodding in agreement. The doorbell sounded again, and Daryl sighed. "Best answer it, 'fore Sophia wakes up."

"Ok," she said softly, placing her hand against his back as he sat up and turned to throw his legs over the edge of the bed.

"I'll be right back," he promised, kissing her fingers as she placed her hand on his shoulder. He got out of bed, pulling on his boxers and a pair of sweat pants. Carol moaned softly, stretching in the bed after he left the room. She decided now was a good time to check on Sophia, so she pulled herself out of bed, hurried down the hall wrapped in Daryl's sheet and closed herself in her bedroom.

She checked on Sophia and quickly dressed in a pair of grey pajama pants and a grey tank top to match, and just as she was deciding if it was too obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, she heard him knock on her door.

"Yeah?" The door creaked open, and Daryl poked his head inside with a grin on his face. "What?"

"Somebody's here who's pretty damned excited to see you."

"Who?"

"You're just gonna have to come on out and see." Carol flashed him a funny look, and she couldn't help but smile at his smile. It was contagious.

"Ok. Give me a second, and I'll be out." Daryl nodded and ducked back out, shutting the door behind him. Carol quickly threw her shirt off and tossed on a bra before putting the shirt back on. She looked herself over in the mirror, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and then she slipped on some house shoes and headed down the hall.

The second she saw the man standing in the living room, her jaw dropped, and he looked to her, eyes going wide as a grin spread over his face.

"Carol Morgan? I thought he was fuckin' with me," the man said with a chuckle. Carol's eyes widened, and a grin spread over to her face, before she went running over to throw her arms around his neck.

"God, you grew up!" she laughed, hugging him like the brother she'd always considered him. "Rick Grimes. What are you doing here?"

"Came over to have a beer with my brother, here, and he tells me he's got a roommate. He tells me it's you, and I'm thinking he's full of shit, but here you are. You look good, Carol Ann. You look real good." He hugged her again, squeezing her tight. He'd been Daryl's foster brother, and the three of them had spent a lot of time together in high school. As much as Daryl thought of Rick as his brother, Carol felt quite the same, and seeing him again brought tears to her eyes. When Rick let go of her, she brushed away the tears.

"How long've you been around here?"

"A couple months," Carol said with a shrug. "Where've you been?"

"Rick here's been busy," Daryl said with a smirk. "Has himself a couple kids now. Don't ya, Officer?"

"Officer? You're a cop now?"

"Yes, ma'am, he said, gesturing as if he was tipping a sheriff's hat. "Hope to be Sheriff one of these days."

"You will be," Carol said with a confident nod. "You were always so good at following the rules."

"Yeah, 'cause you and Daryl liked breakin' em."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carol said with a grin, folding her arms across her chest.

"Way I remember it, the two of you snuck onto Old Mack Jennings' property to mess around one summer night. He came after you with a shotgun, didn't he?" Carol's eyes widened at the memory, and she bit her bottom lip, grinning.

"Oh, I forgot about that," she laughed.

"I didn't," Daryl smirked. Carol rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"So, you're a dad, huh?"

"Yep. Carl's four. Judith's just a baby. I'm tired," Rick chuckled.

"Well, you look happy, so that's good," Carol said with a grin, just as Sophia began to fuss from the back of the house. Rick's brows rose, and Carol smiled.

"Speaking of babies. I have one of those, myself," she said with a grin. "Let me get her. I'll introduce you." Carol started to the back of the house, and Rick shot Daryl a knowing glance.

"What?"

"So…what's going on?"

"What're you talkin' about?"

"Last I knew, Carol went off to school and married that walking brick wall. What happened?"

"That's over. She came home," Daryl said quietly.

"You hadn't heard from her. You hadn't seen her. And she, what, shows up back on your doorstep?" Daryl looked away. "She ok?"

"She's gettin' there," Daryl said quietly. "She's safe here." He saw the realization hit Rick in that moment.

"Jesus. Her husband know she's here?"

"He ain't her husband anymore. And if he's lookin' for her, he ain't found her yet, and I aim to keep it that way."

"So, you guys together, or…?" He watched Daryl fidget anxiously. "Sorry. Ain't my business." He cleared his throat as Carol came walking back into the room with a baby cradled in her arms.

"This is Sophia."

"She's gorgeous," Rick said with a chuckle, gently touching the baby's palm with his finger. She gripped his finger then, a little smile sneaking at the corners of her mouth. Carol chuckled then.

"Thank you," Carol replied softly.

"You doing ok?"

"We're good," Carol promised with a reassuring nod, kissing Sophia's forehead. "We're great, really."

...

Rick stuck around for a beer and some conversation, and then he had to get back home to his wife and kids. Carol made sure to give Rick a couple more hugs before he left, and when he was gone, she beamed at Daryl.

"He's doing ok?" she asked.

"Yeah. Things ain't always easy with his wife, but they're managin'," he said with a nod.

"I'm glad he found someone," she said with a guilty smile. "I always got the feeling that he felt like the third wheel with us sometimes. He's a good guy. He should be happy." She turned to look out the front door just as Rick was pulling out onto the street. She sighed softly when she felt Daryl's arms circle around her waist and his nose bury in her hair, inhaling deeply.

"Rick asked me somethin'," he said quietly, as Carol leaned back against his chest, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"What's that?"

"He asked me…if we're together." To his surprise, Carol didn't bristle or try to pull away. Instead, she rubbed his forearm with her hand as she leaned back against his chest. "And I know you just divorced, and you just had a baby, and…"

"Daryl," she chuckled, turning in his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck, "I haven't been this happy in a long time. You and Sophia make me happy."

"I know what you mean," he said with a little grin, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. "Ain't never figured I'd like havin' a baby around, but Sophia's a cool kid."

"She's two months old, and she's cool," Carol laughed. "Remind her of that when she's fourteen." They both froze briefly at the significance of that statement.

"You gonna want me around that long?"

"If you can put up with us," Carol chuckled.

"You kiddin'? Let you go five years ago. Ain't gonna make that mistake again." Carol beamed then, leaning in to press her lips against his.

"Good," she whispered. "'Cause this is the only place I want to be."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Weekends were the best. Weekends were the sleep in until the baby wakes, breakfast in bed, making love in the middle of the afternoon days that Carol relished. Weekends were the days that she and Daryl could spend together with Sophia, taking her to the park, taking her for long drives in the country, taking her down by the creek to stick her little toes in the water.

Summer was quickly turning into autumn, and Carol was enjoying the change in weather. The days were still hot, but the evenings grew a little crisper, and those were the nights that she could wrap a throw around her shoulders and sit on the porch with Daryl and just talk, talk like they often did, talk like they always had when they were kids.

Things were beginning to feel normal. Sophia had a pretty set schedule now, and at four-months-old, she would close those big, blue eyes about eight o'clock at night and sleep 'til well past five. A thick crop of strawberry blonde hair was growing on top of her head, and Daryl would comment about how she was looking more and more like her mama every day. Sophia had Daryl wrapped around her finger, just like her mama. If she cried, he went to her, picked her up and made sure she was ok. Carol would do the same, but he usually got there first, and Carol would tease him about how she was just going to forget how to cry one day, because every time she started, somebody was there to pick her up.

It was beautiful to watch the way he was with Sophia. He was gentle and funny, pulling silly faces when he tried to get her to eat a particular kind of jarred baby food she didn't care for. He could always manage to get a squeal of laughter out of Sophia, and it made Carol feel better that Sophia had somebody like Daryl in her life.

On this particular Saturday morning, Carol woke to find that Daryl was already up and out of bed. A rush of panic surged through her, and she quickly pulled herself out of bed and slipped a t-shirt on over her naked form. She hurried down the hall, down to what used to be her room, which was now a fully functional nursery for Sophia. The baby was awake and chewing on her fingers. Carol ducked back out into the hallway to find Daryl pacing the living room. When he saw her, he held a hand up as if to tell her that everything was ok, and she took a deep breath, waiting for him to finish on the phone.

"You sure it's gotta be me? Can't you get Jim or T-Dog? Shit. Alright," Daryl muttered. "Alright. Fine. I'll be in. Yeah." He hung up and turned toward Carol. "M'sorry. Boss called me in. Guess they got triple the work load this weekend, so they need me in."

"It's ok," Carol said with a little shrug.

"You sure? We always spend the weekends with Soph, and…"

"It's ok. You have to work. I understand." She couldn't hide the slight disappointment in her voice, but she moved over to wrap her arms around his neck. He studied her face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her.

"I'll make it up to ya."

"Can't wait," she grinned. "How late will you be?"

"Dunno. Three? Maybe four."

"Ok. Well, maybe I'll call Maggie and see if she wants me to bring Sophia over for a play date with Henry."

"Might be good," Daryl said with a nod, kissing her again. "Promise, tomorrow it's just the three of us, and if Micky tries to call me in, I'll tell him to fuck off." Carol smirked a little and shook her head before giving him another kiss. "You better get ready. And I'd better go get dressed. I'm not wearing anything under this, you know."

"Fuck," Daryl grumbled, as she wriggled away and headed down the hall, pulling up her shirt far enough to reveal her bare ass underneath. "I can be late." He headed down the hall after her, and she laughed as he scooped her up in his arms.

"No! You better not start what you can't finish."

"Gimme five minutes."

"Oh, five whole minutes? Tempting," she giggled. "But you should go. Times wasting."

"C'mon," he groaned, pawing at her hips as he pushed himself against her ass. Carol snorted, bowing her head as he kissed the back of her neck. "Five minutes."

"You gonna rock my world in five minutes?" she panted, as his hand moved up her thigh, under her shirt and up to grasp her breast.

"Challenge accepted," he snorted, kissing her ear before sucking the lobe between his teeth. And then Sophia started to cry.

"Oops," Carol giggled, turning in his arms before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Duty calls. You should get going. I'll check on Sophia."

"Guess we both got some makin' up to do for each other tonight," he said with a smirk. Carol winked at him before ducking into the nursery and leaving Daryl to his thoughts.

...

Daryl tugged on his old work jeans and a work shirt, and he was just pulling a pair of socks out of the top drawer when his hand brushed over something familiar in the back. He pulled it out, opening the box and staring down the ring he'd bought for Carol so long ago. He ran his finger of the diamond, swallowing hard as he thought about how long he'd kept that ring, how long he'd had it hidden away.

And, as he'd stood there once before, ring in hand, a question on his lips, he'd never felt more certain of anything in his life. There was no fear now. No uncertainty. _She_ was his truth, and nothing had ever made as much sense as this thing they had together. This was his family. Carol and Sophia were everything to him, and it was just a matter of time. He would find the right time. He wouldn't push her, he wouldn't rush her. For now, things were perfect, and he didn't want to ruin that.

He smiled a little, thinking about how many mornings he'd woken up next to her, seeing how still and peaceful she was when she slept. He'd stared at her beautiful face until she woke, until she blinked into the morning light and saw him staring back at her. And she would smile, and he'd feel that question bubbling up in his chest, catching just before he could ask it. It wasn't time yet. But, soon.

Soon, he'd ask her, and he knew she'd say yes. He still thought she could do better than him. Some days, he honestly questioned how he'd gotten so lucky. But she loved him. Sometimes he didn't understand why she loved him so damned much, but she did, and he loved her more than he'd ever loved a single person in his entire life. When he thought of every happy memory in his life, he always saw her face, heard her laugh, felt her lips against his skin. That was love. That was Carol.

"Hey, you ok in there?" Carol tapped on the slightly ajar door, and Daryl quickly put the ring back in its hiding spot. He closed the drawer and moved to sit on the bed and put his socks and shoes on. "Someone wants to say good morning." She came in holding Sophia, who yawned sleepily and grinned when she saw Daryl. Daryl quickly laced up his boots before brushing his hands on the sides of his pant legs.

"Hey Princess," Daryl murmured, holding his hands out for her.

"Can you hold her for a second so I can get dressed?"

"Sure," he replied, taking the baby into his arms. "You gonna keep your mama company today?" Sophia giggled when he tickled her tummy, and Carol smiled at them both as she gathered her clothes up and headed to the bathroom. Daryl kissed Sophia's cheek, and he watched Carol as she disappeared out of sight. "Alright, you remember what we was workin' on? You gonna say it for me? C'mon. You can do it, Soph." Sophia blew a raspberry, and Daryl sighed. "C'mon, Soph. You can say it. Say 'ma ma.' We're gonna surprise her. You can do it."

"Aaaaaaaaaa," the baby babbled before sucking on her fingers. Daryl chuckled and shook his head.

"Close enough." He kissed her forehead. "We'll work on it some more tonight. Deal?" The baby blinked and grinned at him. "Good."

"Alright," Carol announced, coming back into the room wearing her favorite jeans and t-shirt. "How's my girl?"

"She's great," Daryl said with a nod. "We're just workin' on a surprise for you, ain't we, Soph?"

"What kinda surprise?"

"Oh, nothin'," he replied with a smirk, standing up and passing the baby back to her mother. "I gotta go. See you later?"

"Mmm. Love you."

"Love you," he murmured, kissing her softly. He kissed the side of Sophia's head. "Love you, Soph." Carol sighed softly at that and smiled, watching him head out to work. Carol cradled her daughter close and let out a slow breath.

"Well," said said brightly, "what should we do today? Should we call Maggie and see if Henry wants to play?" Sophia gurgled and smiled at her mother, and Carol laughed. "Well, alright, I'll take that as a yes!"

...

Daryl yawned as he cut the engine and stared up at the house, so still and calm as the evening sun cast a golden light about the yard. The little baby swing tied to the front porch for Sophia swayed softly in the breeze, while Carol's rose bush glistened from the rain shower they'd had earlier that day. This was home. And he knew when he stepped inside, he'd find her cooking in the kitchen or cuddled up on the couch watching a movie with the baby. Whatever she was doing, she'd look up at him when he walked through the door, come over to greet him with a kiss, and they'd spend the rest of the evening just being together and enjoying that. It had become routine over the last couple of months, and he was thankful for that.

It had always been him and a bottle of beer or a stale, half-eaten pizza. It had always been him thinking back to her, to them, to what once was, thinking how he'd been so stupid to let her go. But she'd come back, and she was here, and they were trying, and they were happy. And as he picked up the bouquet of flowers on the front seat of the pickup, he thought back to that ring in his top drawer, the ring that was meant for her, and he took a deep breath. There was no sense in thinking it to death. All he had to do was ask. All he had to do was gather the nerve to not just ask her to marry him but to ask her to allow him to be the father Sophia deserved, the father he _wanted_ to be.

He cleared his throat and grabbed his wallet, stuffing it into the back of his pocket as he pulled himself out of the truck. He held the flowers in one hand and his keys in the other, walking up the path to the door.

When he stepped up, opening the screen door, the front door shifted with the suction. Daryl furrowed his brows, popping the door open with the toe of his boot.

"Carol?" he asked, listening for the television or the baby or the sound of dishwater running in the sink. Quiet. He peeked out to see Carol's car was still parked outside, so he made his way in, placing the flowers down on the table by the door. He made his way down the hall to the nursery, which was dark and empty with no sign of Sophia. The stroller was gone.

Daryl let out a soft breath of relief, realizing Carol must have taken her out for a walk, which immediately explained the door being left unlocked. Still, he was unsettled. It wasn't like Carol to leave and not lock the door. She still checked the locks on the doors and windows every night before bed. She looked in the back seat before she left for work every morning.

"Carol?" he called again, feeling his throat thickening, feeling as if the room was spinning. "Carol?" He turned, heading down the hall toward their room, and it was then that he saw the door was ajar, and the light from the bedside table was on, but something was off. As he pushed the door open, he realized the lamp was lying on its side on the floor, and the cord led to something, was tied to something. Hands. He felt like something had punched him in the stomach the moment he realized that those bloody hands belong to Carol. "No." He rushed around the bed where she was curled up in a ball with her hands tied together. Blood streaked down her arms and poured from a wound just beyond her hairline. So much blood. "God damn it. Carol!" He quickly untied her hands, and he heard her moan softly.

Alive.

"Baby, wake up," he murmured. "Wake up, sweetheart." He moved around, gently picking her head up, resting it in his lap. He could feel the blood seeping through his jeans. Her arms were bruised, and her legs were horribly discolored with large, dark splotches. Bruises.

"Sophia," she whimpered, her fingers twitching against her stomach. "The baby."

"Where is she, sweetheart? Carol, where's the baby?" She was silent. Hot tears slicked down Daryl's face, and he fought the urge to throw up. "It's gonna be ok. We're gonna find her. We're gonna be ok." He reached for the phone, and it was gone. It was then that he heard the faint beeping under the bed, and he gently placed her head back down on the carpet, grabbing a pillow off of the bed to place under her. He dove halfway under the bed, retrieving the phone and turning it off and on again before dialing for help.

 _"911, what's your emergency?"_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The ambulance arrived first, and when Carol was loaded into the back, a call was made, and the police were en route to the hospital to meet Daryl for questioning and a statement. He was permitted to ride along in the ambulance and hold Carol's hand, though she was unconscious and unaware of anything going on around her.

He was in a trance. His eyes were shifting in and out of focus but directed squarely on her face, watching her for any sign of waking. She was still, and her hand was limp in his, and he couldn't remember ever feeling like this in his entire life.

"Come on," he whispered. "Please, wake up. Wake up." His thumb traced over her bruised knuckles, and he minded the ugly indentations on her wrists from the phone cord. Her neck had bruises, much like the bruises she'd shown up with that night on his porch. But this time they were worse. This time, the bastard had almost killed her.

A soft buzzing was almost unnoticeable as the ambulance sirens blared, but Daryl heard it, and he saw the square patch light up on the pocket of her jeans. Her cell phone. He gently fished it out, being careful not to jostle her in any way. He was so out of focus, so out of it that he couldn't even concentrate on what name flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" he asked, voice shaking.

"Daryl? Is this Daryl?"

"It's Daryl. Who's this?"

"Daryl, it's Maggie. You have Carol's phone? Where is she? She was supposed to come right back. I've been calling for an hour."

"Maggie." His mouth was dry, and words felt foreign on his tongue. "We're going to the hospital. There was…an accident."

"Oh my God."

"We can't find Sophia."

"Sophia? Sophia's here. I've got her. She's safe. Daryl?"

 _Sophia. Safe. Safe from harm. Thank you. Thank God._

"Daryl!"

"Maggie?"

"What hospital?"

"I…I don't know."

"Daryl. Ask the paramedics. What hospital?" Daryl looked to the paramedics that were keeping an eye on Carol's vitals.

"What hospital are we going to?"

"Grady Memorial," the one young woman said, placing a gauze pad against the side of Carol's head to help get control of the bleeding.

"Grady Memorial," Daryl said flatly into the phone.

"Ok. We're on our way. Just tell her to hang in there. Daryl, it's gonna be ok. It's…" The phone cut out, and Daryl looked down at the screen. The battery died. With a sickening, cold-sweat, he realized that Maggie's calling had probably worn the battery low, and Carol had probably been lying there bleeding for a good half hour before he'd found her. God, she could have died. And he'd almost had to stay an extra hour, but he'd convinced his boss to let him go. God, what if he hadn't? What if he'd been later?

His hands shook, and he dropped Carol's phone and put his head in his hands.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

"Don't worry about me. You focus on her." He swallowed hard, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Focus on her."

...

"Is there anybody you could think of that would do something like this to her, Mr. Dixon?"

"Her ex-husband. Ed Peletier."

"You're sure?"

"He did it before. She had a restrainin' order on him. Made her go into labor, coulda killed the baby, too, but she was fine." He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at the door to Carol's room. The nurses had ushered him out while Carol was being cleaned up and stitched up. She still wasn't awake, and they were working on that, too.

"You said there's a child? Where's the child?"

"With friends," Daryl said quietly. "Think he might've come lookin' for her, but I guess Carol took the baby to their house earlier in the day. Must've come home for somethin', 'cause she was home by herself when I found her."

"And approximately what time did you return home from work, Mr. Dixon?"

"Quarter after four," Daryl said dryly.

"Can anyone corroborate that?"

"Yeah. My boss, Micky. Couple of my co-workers. Check the time clock. Punched out at 4:00 on the dot."

"Has she been in any contact with Mr. Peletier?"

"Since she came here? No. Didn't ever wanna see that sumbitch again."

"You're sure she hasn't contacted him?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"And how long has she been living with you?"

"'Four, goin' on five months."

"Alright. Thank you for your time, sir." The officers walked away, and Daryl slumped into a seat by the door, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. He didn't even have time to think before the doors at the end of the hall burst open, and Hershel, Beth, Glenn and Maggie came rushing through. Glenn carried Henry, while Maggie pushed Sophia in her stroller. Daryl stood on shaky legs and hurried over, picking Sophia up out of the stroller and clutching her to his chest.

"God. Thank God," he choked out, kissing the top of her head. Maggie gently placed her hand on Daryl's shoulder, giving it a little rub.

"How is she?"

"No change. Still ain't woke yet. They're fixin' her up right now. I can't…she ain't…she can't.."

"Come on over here and sit down," Hershel urged, grabbing Daryl's shoulder and guiding him back over to the chair. Daryl sat down slowly, letting out a few breaths as Sophia looked up at him with scared, worried eyes.

"M'sorry, Soph," Daryl murmured, bouncing his knee. "It's ok. Don't cry." It was too late. Sophia buried her face against Daryl's chest and began to cry. Daryl gently rubbed her back, soothing her.

"I can take her," Beth offered.

"S'alright. I got her. I got her." He rocked Sophia for a bit until she calmed down, and it wasn't long before she was sleeping against his chest. Maggie and Glenn settled in chairs across from Daryl, while Hershel and Beth took Henry for a walk down the long hallway to keep him entertained.

"We went to lunch," Maggie explained. "Carol realized she'd forgotten to send something out in the mail. Phone bill, I think. I offered to take Sophia on back home with me, since we were going to take them to the park together. Carol was going to come right back, and she never did. I tried to call her, but…"

"Thank you. For watching Sophia. If…if she'd been with Carol, he'd have her now." Daryl swallowed hard and bit his lip, holding onto the fact that that precious baby girl was safe from harm.

"I should have come back with her. Maybe…"

"Maybe you'd be in that hospital bed, too," Daryl replied. "Carol wouldn't want that." The door to Carol's room swung open, and several people filed out. Finally, a young woman with a clipboard came stepping out.

"Mr. Dixon?" she asked. "I'm Dr. Daniels." Daryl looked at her nametag. Michonne Daniels, M.D. "Carol's awake. She's asking for you, and she's asking about her baby."

"Baby's fine," he said, gentling bouncing Sophia in his arms as he stood. Michonne nodded. "She ok?"

"She's very weak. Very sore. But she's going to pull through. She's been through a trauma, so she's just going to need some time, some understanding. Patience."

"I get it," Daryl said quietly.

"The police will want to speak with her, but she's very emotional, and I promised her I'd bring you in first."

"Maggie?" Daryl asked, turning to her. "Could you?"

"Of course," Maggie murmured, wiping at her eyes and sniffling. "Go on. I've got her." Daryl passed the baby off to Maggie and wiped his sweating palms on his shirt. He cleared his throat and nodded toward the doctor, who stepped aside for him.

"I'll go get the police officers, but I'll give you a few minutes with her," she promised. "She needs somebody she can trust right now."

"Thank you," Daryl said quietly, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you for helping her." He slipped past her then, walking into the room. The doctor closed the door gently to give them a little privacy. The moment Daryl's gaze settled on her, he felt his throat tighten. She lay there looking like a different person. Flecks of dried blood still clung to her hair. Her arms, one of which was in a sling, were bruised, wrists slightly swollen from being tied up. Her legs were covered with the blanket, but no doubt looking just as bad, or worse as they had been earlier.

Her eyes were closed, but her fingers twitched against the white quilt that was draped over her. She moaned softly, brow furrowing as she lay there in discomfort. She had an IV, no doubt for pain medicine, and the left side of her face was one large, dark bruise.

His breath hitched in his chest just then, and it was enough to alert Carol to his presence. He had wanted to be strong for her, wanted to keep his emotions in check so she wouldn't be upset, but seeing her lying there looking the way she was…it was too much.

"Hey," she whispered, turning her head to peek at him. Her left eye was swollen shut, and a tear slid out of the right one. He took a couple of tentative steps toward the bed, pulling the chair out and sitting down next to her, reaching out for her hand but hesitating, afraid to touch her. "It's ok. It's ok. I won't break."

"She's ok. Sophia's ok. Maggie's got her." He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He saw her chest rise and fall heavily in relief, and then she shuddered, trying to keep from crying. The pain was too much to allow for it. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he murmured, voice trembling as he attempted to swallow back the lump in his throat.

"Shh," she whispered, bringing her hand up to stroke his cheek. He placed his hand against hers then, and the floodgates opened. He let out a choked sob, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, curling his fingers around hers.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he sobbed, putting his head down on the bed, crying into the blanket as her fingers stroked through his hair.

"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here. I'm ok."

...

"Start from the beginning, and take your time. Every detail helps, but don't rush yourself, ma'am." Carol squeezed Daryl's hand, as she watched the three officers who stood around her bed in her room. One officer had a voice recorder in his hand, another had a pad of paper and a pen. The other seemed to be just there to observe, and it all made her very anxious. She hesitated, glancing at Daryl, and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead.

"It's ok," he said softly. "I got you. I'm here." Carol nodded, squeezing his fingers and taking a deep breath.

"I never leave the door unlocked. I got home from Maggie's, and I thought it was odd. The door was unlocked. But I'd been in a hurry getting Sophia packed up. I thought maybe I just forgot. So I went inside."

 _"Hey sweetheart," his baritone voice sounded from the kitchen, where he sat at the table with a beer in one hand and a cold sandwich in the other. She froze, eyes fixed on the hand on his beer, white-knuckled and shaking._

"He was just sitting there. Ed. Like he was at home. Sophia's teddy bear was on the table, and he…he looked at it and then looked at me."

 _"Thought you would take my daughter, run off into the arms of some worthless asshole? You're my wife. She's my daughter. You're my family. You ain't his." He pushed the chair back, and it gave a loud, shuddering groan against the linoleum. She backed up against the hallway wall then and turned toward the living room, keys shaking in her hands._

"He grabbed me at the door, slammed it shut with his foot. Got between me and the door. His hand came down on my shoulder, hard. Felt like he dislocated it. And he grabbed me by the back of the hair and pushed me down."

 _His hands closed around her wrists, and he dragged her down the hall to the master bedroom._

 _"This where he fucks you? This where he makes you forget you're still mine?" She cried out in pain as his heavy boot came down on the square of her back. "This where you pretend you're worth somethin', where he makes you think he wants you? You're just pussy. Any man desperate for it will make you think you're the queen of the whole fuckin' world."_

"He pulled me up by the arm that was hurting already. That was when he threw me down on the bed. I thought…I thought he was going to…" Her voice strangled in her throat. "He just…he just started to hit me. Over and over again. I've never seen him that angry. I thought he wanted to kill me. He just kept hitting me, and I thought my legs were broken."

 _She curled up on the bed, clutching her arm to her chest as he leveled the blows on her, knuckles out as he slammed his fists into her sides, her arms, her thighs, her calves. She was going to die. She could feel it. This time, he was going to kill her._

"He wasn't drunk. He was as sober as the day he was born. But he was so angry. He was…he kept telling me I was his. Kept saying that I had to be punished for breaking our family up." She blinked back the tears. "He reached for the phone cord, and he wrapped my hands in it. He hit me in the chest. I tried to cry out, but my lungs were burning. I couldn't catch my breath."

 _Her arms came up to block her face as the cord tightened around her wrists. It only served to anger him more. He fell over her, gripping her by the throat and dragging her up to sit._

 _"Good dogs don't fight back. Good dogs take their beatings. Get on your knees." She wouldn't move. Hot tears trailed down her face, and he swung out, striking her hard against the face. Her eye felt like it burst behind her lid, and she screamed out then. And he hit her again. He grabbed her by the back of the neck, pushing her to the floor. She toppled over, head slamming into the side of the bedside table. And everything began to swim in front of her. She lay her head against the carpet, feeling the hot blood begin to cool as it poured out of her._

"I thought I was dead. I thought…and he kept kicking me. I tried to scoot under the bed, and he kicked me in the face. And I…I remember hearing him as everything went black."

 _"Get up. Carol! Get up." His hands closed around her shoulders, and he shook her, hard. Her head slammed down against the floor, and she was limp. "Carol? Wake up."_

"The next thing I remember, Daryl was there, and I heard sirens after that." She took a deep breath, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Ma'am, we've got six counties searching for your ex-husband. We've got officers out patrolling for his vehicle and doing stop checks near county lines. We're going to do our best to find him. We've even called the Savannah police department and had them send officers to Mr. Peletier's home. We'll keep an officer posted around the clock outside of your room until he's brought in."

"Thank you," Carol murmured, nodding to the police officer. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"I'd like to be alone with my family, please," she murmured. Giving Daryl's hand a squeeze, she looked up at him. "I need to see my baby."

"I'll get her," he promised, leaning down and gently brushing his lips over her forehead. The officers filed out of the room, and Daryl disappeared, leaving Carol alone in silence. She took a deep, shuddering breath, biting her trembling lip and gripping the bed rail with her good arm. She couldn't do this. She couldn't lose control. She'd fought so hard to be happy, to feel normal again. She couldn't let Ed do this. She couldn't give him that power over her. If she broke, he won. It's what he wanted.

"Hey, look who's here," Daryl murmured, stepping back in the room with a sleepy Sophia in his arms.

"Oh, there's my sweet girl," Carol whispered softly, trying to hide the pain in her voice. Daryl moved over, sitting down beside Carol's bed.

"M'sorry I wasn't there," he murmured.

"It's not your fault," she assured him. "Don't blame yourself. Ed did this. Ed. Not you." She lifted her hand up, gently stroking his cheek.

"You don't gotta be strong all the time," Daryl said quietly, squeezing her hand. "What he did…"

"I can't. I can't," she breathed, her voice wavering. "Just let me hold my girl. Let me hold my baby. I can't think about it now. I just need to hold her." Daryl nodded, seeing the tear slipping down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away, as Daryl placed the baby in her good arm.

"Be gentle with yer mama," he murmured. Sophia yawned and blinked up at her mother for a few moments before snuggling against her chest and falling fast asleep. Carol took a deep, shaking breath, and Daryl kissed her forehead once more. "I love you."

"I love you," she said softly. "Stay tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Ain't goin' nowhere," he promised. "Get some sleep. Just rest." Carol watched him for a moment, seeing the way his lip quivered before he bit it.

"Hey," she whispered, running her hand over his. "I'm still breathing. I'm ok."

"You're ok," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You're ok."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Her arm was severely bruised, and while it was extremely painful to the touch, it wasn't broken. Thankfully, that was the most serious injury, aside from the loss of blood, which had been replenished through the night. By the next morning, she felt worse than the night before. The swelling seemed to be worse, but Dr. Daniels insisted that Carol was doing well and should be home in a few days if she continued to improve.

Daryl's boss had been kind enough to let him take a few days off of work to be with her at the hospital, and in between taking care of Sophia and sitting with Carol, he was pretty much putting in a full day's work, but he wasn't complaining a bit.

Carol had talked him into leaving to take Sophia to the park for a while so she could have some fresh air, and while he hadn't been keen to leave her, she insisted that she felt safe with the officer right outside of her door. While Ed was still out there somewhere, she knew there was no way in hell he was brave enough to step foot into the hospital when the police were standing guard outside his ex-wife's hospital room.

She'd managed to doze off for a little bit. Part of it was the painkillers, the other was pure exhaustion. She hadn't slept much at all the night before. When she had slept, she'd had nightmares, and Daryl had soothed her through all of it. Maggie and Glenn had offered to take Sophia for the night, but Carol and Daryl had both wanted her close, wanted to know where she was at all times. Dr. Daniels had ordered a hospital crib from the pediatric unit, and Daryl had thanked her. She had simply told him that Carol was one of many women she'd seen over the years, and she was always willing to help her patients cope with these sorts of traumas as best she could.

During one of Carol's little dozes, she woke to a soft rapping on the door. She moaned softly, placing her hand to her forehead as the raps pulsed in her head, making her feel ten times worse. She groaned softly, and then the rapping came again.

"Come in," she called softly. A bouquet of flowers wrapped in pretty purple plastic came through first, held by the small, pale hand of wide-eyed Beth Greene.

"Hi," Beth said softly. "You up for some company?"

"Come on in," Carol said with a little wave toward the seat. Beth stepped into the room, peeking around expectantly, ducking her head slightly before closing the door behind herself.

"Picked these in the meadow out by the house. Maggie helped me pick out the wrapping. Thought they might brighten up the room."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Carol said softly. Beth moved around, looking through the cabinets until she found a vase. She disappeared into the bathroom to fill it with water before coming out with a lovely floral display. "They're beautiful." Beth gently placed the vase on the table by Carol's bed.

"How're you feeling?"

"Sore," Carol said quietly. "I was lucky." Beth nodded a little and moved to sit down next to Carol's hospital bed. "Your dad bring you down?"

"No. I came alone," she said quietly. "Just wanted to see you. I'm sorry this happened to you." Beth looked away then.

"What's on your mind, Beth?"

"Oh, nothing. I just…"

"Talk to me," Carol said softly, wincing as she sat up a little.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Just going to be sore for a while."

"Oh," Beth said with a nod, standing up and helping Carol sit up, adjusting the pillow behind her.

"Thank you." She leaned back against the pillow and watched the younger girl. "Beth?"

"I was awful to you," Beth said gently.

"Honey, that's all the past. We've talked about that," Carol said gently. "I've been where you were with Jimmy."

"I know, but...I still feel awful," Beth murmured, eyes welling with tears. "He could have…and I didn't…"

"Just be thankful he's not in your life anymore," Carol said softly. "He's gone, and you're stronger than you thought you were."

"Your husband came back," Beth said quietly. "You thought it was safe, and…"

"Honey, even when I felt the safest I've ever felt in my life, Ed was still there in the back of my mind. Part of me thinks he always will be." She took a deep breath, wincing in pain. "I fought back. I tried. He just…he was stronger."

"How do you…how do you trust after that?" Beth wondered. "How can you let somebody get close to you after your own husband…"

"Hey," Carol said softly, "not everyone is an Ed or a Jimmy." She took a deep breath. "I was lucky. I knew Daryl before I knew Ed. I knew what happy was. I knew what trust was. I thought I could have that with Ed, but I was wrong, and I figured that out too late. You don't give up. You fight. When you feel that fear rising up in you, you fight it, because if you let it take you over, you'll never get through it."

"You're not afraid?"

"Of Daryl? I trust Daryl."

"But you trusted Ed enough to marry him." Carol sighed softly.

"That's true. Everybody in this world has the capability to hurt someone else. But I know Daryl. I know Daryl better than I know myself, I think. I trust Daryl with my life, and I know he could never do the things Ed's done. I trust him. I have to have trust, because I didn't, I'd spend the rest of my life alone, trusting no one, and that's not something I want my daughter to see. I want her to know love. I want her to see what a family is." Beth gave Carol a sad smile.

"I hope I can be that strong someday."

"Honey, you will be," Carol promised. "You just have to remind yourself that somebody out there is going to love you more than you ever thought possible, and that somebody would go through hell and back to keep you safe. You'll find it, Beth. You're young yet. You have to trust your heart, and you can't shut people out. That's no way to live."

"There's a boy," Beth said with a little smile. "Zach. He's asked me out a few times, but I'm afraid."

"I know," Carol said gently. "That'll pass. Why don't you invite him to dinner?"

"Yeah," Beth said gently. "I could do that. Zach's really smart. We have a lot of the same classes together, and he used to date my friend Molly. She says he was really nice to her when they were together."

"Well, there you go," Carol said quietly, feeling the pain in her head returning with a vengeance. "You'll be ok, Beth. You're strong. Maybe it doesn't feel like you are, but you are. You just have to find that strength and wear it proud. You'll be ok. You'll see."

...

Daryl yawned, rubbing his hand over his face, as he made his way down the street toward the house. Sophia had dozed off about three blocks ago, and he needed to stop by the house to pick up a few things for her before heading back to the hospital. It had been a long day. An exhausting one. But sleep was the last thing on his mind. He needed to get back to the hospital and to Carol.

It hurt to see her like that, all bruised and bandaged and almost broken. And to think that Ed hadn't been found yet, that he was out there somewhere, probably biding his time, hoping the police would give up their manhunt and he could make his next move, well, it made his skin crawl. He hated Ed Peletier. He didn't even know the man, but he hated him, and a slow, painful death was too good for someone like him.

He pulled into the drive and stared up at the house, a sick feeling bubbling in his stomach as he thought of coming home to find her beaten so badly on their bedroom floor, the panic in his chest as he realized Sophia was gone and Carol was hurt and had been lying there for God knew how long.

"Alright, Soph," he said softly. "We won't stay long. Gonna stay at the hospital tonight. Just you, me and yer mama, alright?" He stepped out of the truck and got the baby out of her car seat, carrying her cradled against his chest. He nodded to the police officer in the unmarked car that was parked three houses down, and he headed inside, a shiver running up his spine as he unlocked the door.

He lay Sophia down in the center of his bed, keeping an eye on her as she played with her feet and rolled about. She babbled and giggled when he would talk to her, and as he tossed some of Carol's things into the bag, he paused and opened his own drawer, feeling around in the back until his fingers found the small case with the ring inside.

"I'm gonna marry your mama, Sophia," he murmured, moving to sit on the bed, pulling the baby into his lap. "You think she'll want to marry me?" Sophia hiccupped, and he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I hope you're right, Soph. I hope you're right." He put the ring in the bag. It wasn't time yet. It wasn't nearly time. But he didn't want to leave it in this house one more night. This place he'd called home for the past several years was now a striking reminder of what Ed had done. Blood stains on the carpet, bits of plaster from the wall peppering the floor, a crack on the corner of the bedside table where she'd hit her head, blood dried to the phone cord.

This wasn't home anymore. This was a crime scene.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Come on. That's it. You can do it, sweetie!" Carol cooed, kneeling down in the freshly cut grass, as Sophia contemplated attempted to crawl. Sophia looked down at her hands in contemplation, babbling to herself as she glanced back up at her mother. She'd been so closely lately, getting up on her hands and knees and rocking back and forth, looking like a silly little bunny trying to make up her mind.

Daryl crouched in the grass mirroring Carol, an amused gleam in his eye as he gave Sophia a pat on her diapered bottom.

"C'mon, Soph. Go to mama. She's a'waitin' for ya." Sophia grunted in frustration, beginning to rock on her knees, curling her fingers into the soft grass as she attempted to get her hands and knees working together. She let out another grunt, and her arms went lax. Sophia went face first into the ground, and Daryl chuckled to himself as Sophia rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky, a look crossing between upset and sadness crossing her features, before he swooped her up and gave her kisses on her chubby belly. She giggled then, and all was right with the world. "Good try, kiddo. Almost there."

"She's still a little young yet," Carol sighed, moving to sit beside Daryl in the grass. "Maybe another month, and she'll be there. Just has to get coordinated. Right, sweetie?" Sophia squealed, and Daryl passed her over to her mother. Carol smiled, snuggling her baby, gently nudging her cheek with her nose.

It had been just over a month since the attack, and Carol was doing better every day. Most of the bruising had faded away, save for around the wrists and a little bit on her face. It was just going to take some time, but every day, she said she felt a little bit better than the day before.

The house in town was a memory now. Daryl had wasted no time in looking for something else. They'd found a nice little house out in the country, about a mile or so from the Greene farm. The rent was a little high, but Daryl had cut a deal with the owner to work on a couple of his cars for free if they could knock the rent down a little bit until Carol could get back to work, and they'd have an extra income. The owner had obliged, and there was even an option to rent to buy, should they make that decision.

They had talked about it some, but they weren't ready to make any deals. Carol was itching to get back to work and feel a little more normal. Daryl wasn't quite ready to leave Carol alone at home, which was why he generally asked Maggie to bring Henry over for play dates, and he'd ask Carol to meet him for lunch in town just to get her away from the house. She knew what he was doing. His motives were transparent, and it made her love him all the more.

"I think I'm ready to go back," Carol said quietly, out of nowhere.

"What?"

"They held my job for me, and I think I'm ready to get back to it."

"You're sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," she said quietly. "I don't hurt anymore. The bruises are almost gone. I don't feel like people are pointing and staring anymore. My wrists? I can cover them with bracelets until my bruises finish fading."

"If that's what you want," he said quietly. "Might do you some good." He cleared his throat. "M'gonna call Rick. See if he can get someone to watch the bank, make sure…"

"Daryl," Carol murmured quietly, "Ed knows if he shows his face around here, he's getting arrested. He knows that."

"The man came into our house and nearly killed you. I don't think he cares what the hell he does, s'long as he hurts you. I ain't takin' any chances." Carol put her hand over his in the grass.

"I love you," she murmured. "I love that you want to keep me safe. But we can't spend the rest of our lives being afraid to leave the house without looking over our shoulders. We can't."

"You're not afraid?" Daryl asked, eyeing her, chewing his lip. "You been tryin' to reassure me this whole time. You been tryin' to make sure _I'm_ ok, when you're the one that coulda died. You came to me that night, and you just broke down. You just…you were…and I didn't know how to help you, but…what's different this time?"

"You're asking me why I'm not a paranoid mess afraid of my own shadow?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "I hide things pretty easily sometimes. I'm terrified." Her voice choked in her throat. "I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and feel like I can't breathe. I feel like something's sitting on my chest. Sometimes I feel like when I open my eyes, he's going to be there with that look in his eyes, that look that he always had right before the beatings started. I have the most vivid nightmares that Sophia's crying, and I run to her room, and she's not in her crib, and I see taillights speeding off down the drive. His car. He has her."

"You don't talk to me," he said quietly.

"Talking about it…it's not…I know I'm safe with you. But he's still out there, which means he can come for me. Any time. But I'm…I can't let that fear take over. I can't let it win. If I spend the rest of my life thinking I'm going to come home to find Ed waiting for me, I'll go crazy. I can't live like that." Her hand trembled, and Daryl curled his fingers around hers. "I need to feel normal. I need to try to live like I don't have a time bomb ticking over my head." She bounced Sophia in her lap. "I want to be with you and raise my daughter. I want to have a job and come home at the end of the day and be with my family. I want to get ma…" She stopped, and he felt her freeze, but she glossed over it. "I want to be happy. I just want this. Us." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And if I can't have that? If I can't live my life without checking around every corner? He's won. He might as well have killed me." She looked away then, looking off toward the house. The house they'd made their own home. A peal of thunder rumbled in the distance, and Carol moved to stand, hoisting "Come on. We should go inside. Storm's coming."

...

Daryl was quiet all through dinner, and Carol knew why. She hadn't even said it, but she knew what it was and why things were awkward. She hated that she'd brought it up, even if it had slipped out. It wasn't the time to be thinking of things like that. Still, she hadn't been able to help herself.

"I'll check on Sophia," she said quietly, as the dim dining room flickered to lifted for a moment, as a bolt of lightning cast shadows against the walls. She stood then, briskly pushing the chair out of her way and starting toward the back of the house. He caught her hand in his, threading their fingers together. She sucked in a sharp breath, and he pulled her down gently. She landed in his lap and let out a little giggle despite her anxieties. She wrapped an arm around his neck, as his arms encircled her waist. "There you are. I was wondering where you went. You've been so quiet."

"Just thinkin'," he murmured, staring up into her eyes. "I love you."

"I know," she grinned. "I love you, too." He sighed softly, moving one hand up to cup her cheek, gently massaging the spot behind her ear before he threaded his fingers into her hair.

"Glad you came back t'me." He put a little pressure there, behind her neck, and she bent forward and brushed her lips against his. When she pulled back, a question on her lips went unasked, and she just stared at him. He never took his eyes off of her as he reached into the middle drawer of a small cabinet next to the table, his newest hiding place. He brought his hand out clasping the small box, and Carol sucked in a sharp breath. "Been holdin' on to this for goin' on six years now. Shoulda gave it to you a long time ago."

"Daryl…you don't have to…I mean, I was just talking earlier, and…"

"Well maybe you oughta stop talkin' right now," he said with a grin, causing her to bit her lip and smile through it. "Never stopped lovin' you, and I love ya more now than I ever thought I could. And I love Sophia. Learned a lot helpin' take care of her, and I wanna keep on takin' care of her." He saw the tears welling in Carol's eyes, and he leaned forward, kissing her softly. "I wanna make more Sophias with you, and I want to give ya everything ya never had before. I want ya to be my wife. And I want to be Sophia's daddy—"

"Daryl," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his, "you already _are_ her daddy. And…and I want to marry you. I want to make more Sophias with you, and will you just hurry up and put this on my finger already?" Daryl chuckled then, as Carol laughed through the tears that began to fall. He picked the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger, watching her eyes light up in that moment.

They kissed again, and she wrapped her other arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him, relishing the feel of being in his arms. When they broke apart, she giggled and extended her arm out to admire her ring.

"We're getting married," she said with a grin, eyes glistening with tears.

"Yep," he murmured, placing a kiss to her shoulder. "We're gettin' married."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Daryl was wide awake. He was exhausted, but he was wide awake. Carol slept soundly curled up against him with an arm draped across his chest. She was warm, and her soft hands were comforting, but he just couldn't get to sleep.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a few slow breaths. He'd tried counting. He'd even tried letting the feel of her heartbeat against his chest lull him to sleep. But something was wrong. He felt unsettled.

He'd been up twice to check the locks on the doors and the windows. He'd peeked out the windows more than few times, and he'd even checked the phone to make sure it was working. Still, something was off. Something didn't feel right.

He sighed heavily, gently sliding Carol's arm off of his chest. He moved as slowly as possible to not jostle her out of her sleep, and when he pulled himself out of bed, he picked up the baby monitor, listening for any sign of trouble in the nursery. The soft, even breaths told him Sophia was sound asleep, which eased his anxieties for a moment. He put the monitor back down and made his rounds, checking the windows and the doors around the house.

The only thing he missed from the old house was the big back porch, the porch he used to sit on every night and have a beer and a smoke and just listen to the crickets singing. The front porch of this house was much bigger, but the only view it had was of the old country road and a currently harvested cornfield.

The best feature of this house was the big picture window in the dining room. It faced a patch of woods, and once in a while, if you stood long enough, a deer would come stepping out. It was peaceful, but not even staring out that window on a night like this could make him feel any better.

He felt hands on his back, and then arms were wrapping around his chest. Then her cheek was resting against the center of his back, and he relaxed.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Didn't mean to wake ya."

"You didn't." She let go of him and moved around to stand next to him, staring out the window and into the darkness outside. "What's wrong?" A loud clap of thunder startled them both and shook the house. Daryl swallowed hard and shook his head. A streak of lightning lit up the sky, and within moments, the sound of rain on the old tin roof echoed through the house. "This remind you of somethin'?"

"The night I came back," Carol said softly, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his. "What's on your mind?"

"Too quiet, I s'pose," he murmured. Carol nodded.

"You should sleep. Big day tomorrow." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. Daryl chuckled to himself, gently reaching out to press his hands against her swollen belly. "Don't need you falling asleep when we see our son for the first time."

"You're so sure it's a boy," he chuckled.

"Of course it's a boy," she teased. "A mother knows these things." She wrapped her arms around her husband's shoulders. "You need to relax." Daryl sighed heavily, nodding and pressing his face against her neck, kissing her there. She moaned softly, running her fingers through his hair.

"C'mon, hubby," she said with a grin. "Let's go back to bed, and maybe I think of a way to help you sleep." Daryl caught her tone, teasing and flirty, and he pulled her close.

It hadn't been long after the wedding that Carol had found out she was pregnant. She'd been terrified, honestly, and the first thing Daryl had wanted to do was to pack up his family and move them as far away from Georgia as possible.

There had been no sighting of Ed Peletier. For all they knew, he was out of the country or living under an assumed name somewhere. Wherever he was, he hadn't bothered to come around. It had been difficult for both of them. There were many sleepless nights where they'd just stay up all night talking or playing card games, anything to keep their minds off of the what ifs.

Their world had calmed considerably. Things were good. Great, even. Sophia was running around everywhere, learning to talk and pretty much glued to her daddy's side as soon as he got home. She was a daddy's girl, through and through.

"You go on back to bed," Daryl suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll join ya in a minute. Just gonna check the locks again."

"Daryl," she murmured, "we just need to get a dog and be done with it."

"Don't want no dog."

"Yes you do," she laughed. "Hershel's dog just had pups, and I saw you eyeing the little black one. You love dogs. You just don't want to admit it."

"I can protect us just fine without a damned dog."

"Mmmhmm. And I saw how you about melted into a puddle when that puppy licked your face."

"Stop," he grumbled, getting a giggle out of her.

"Come on. Leave the locks alone. You've already checked them twice." Daryl nodded, letting his wife lead him down the hall. Just as they started to walk back toward the bedroom, the crunch of tires on gravel startled them both. And then thunder rumbled again. The usual shadows cast by headlights along the walls never came. Whoever was there had their lights turned off. Carol froze, and Daryl turned toward the front of the house. "Daryl."

"Go get Soph. Stay in the nursery with her." Carol nodded and hurried to get the baby. Daryl moved to the hall closet and opened it, fishing for the box on the very top shelf. He grabbed it and opened it, finding a small handgun and a box of bullets. He loaded it quietly, the sound of his own breath flooding his ears. He swallowed hard, putting the box back into the closet and making his way down the hallway.

He made his way toward the front to peek out at the drive, but it was impossible to see anything with the sheets of rain pouring down. It was too dark out in the country.

A banging on the door had Sophia crying in the nursery, and Carol came walking out.

"Stay back," he warned, moving toward the front door. Carol held a squirming Sophia close, and Daryl's hand shook with his finger on the trigger. He swallowed hard, and that was when the pale yellow of a flashlight flooded through the lace curtains and onto the hardwood floor below. Daryl pulled back the curtain, squinting into the light.

"Daryl? You gonna let me in, brother?" He sighed heavily at the realization and put his gun in his back pocket.

"Fuck, Rick!" He unlocked and opened the door wide and glared at him. "What the hell are you doin' out here in the middle of the goddamn night?"

"I'd have called, but I left my cell at the station. Wanted to tell you." Rick took a few gulping breaths and stepped inside. Carol quickly flicked the light on and moved to stand next to her husband. "They found Ed."

"Oh God," Carol breathed. "Thank God. Where is he?"

"Shelby County morgue in Tennessee. They found his car off an old road in Nashville. Plates were his, and the body matched the description. Road was washed out from a nasty storm. They think he lost control of the car, crashed into a tree. His wallet and ID were in the car. Fingerprints matched. It's him, Carol. He's dead."

Daryl watched his wife, feeling a weight off of his own shoulders as she processed the information herself. He didn't know what to expect from her. He didn't know if she would cry or laugh or what, but she just nodded, clutching her baby closer and blinked a few times, taking in a long, slow breath. Finally, she spoke.

"Thank you," she murmured to Rick. "Thank you."

...

"Daddy?" Sophia asked, lying in the back of the pickup truck and pointing up at the sky. "What's that one?"

"That's a rabbit," he murmured, chewing on a piece of straw as he lay with his legs dangling over the tailgate.

"I don't know," Carol replied with a laugh, squeezing in between her daughter and her husband. "It looks more like a mouse to me. See the way the tail curves?"

"Maybe," Sophia considered.

"It's a dove," Daniel insisted, hopping up into the truck. "See? That's not a tail. It's a wing." He lay down with his legs crossing over his fathers.

"I think Danny wins," Carol said with a nod toward her four-year-old son. "I can see a dove more than I can see a rabbit or a mouse."

"It's not a dove," Sophia laughed. "That's silly."

"Oh yeah? Who's silly?" Danny asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Bet I can still outrun you!"

"You're on!" Sophia smirked, hopping up and scrambling out of the truck bed. Danny followed after her, jumping off the tailgate like it was a diving board.

"You two be careful!" Carol hollered after them, relaxing when Daryl tugged her back down to lay beside him in the truck bed. His hand moved over the swell of her belly where their unborn daughter was kicking like crazy. She smiled, a genuine, big, happy smile, folding her hand over his and laughing.

"You gonna come over here and kiss me, or what?" he asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"Why, Daryl Dixon," Carol mused, "I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
